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mxstellatayte · 8 months ago

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pretty please: chapter one.

pretty please masterlist.

chapter one warnings: lewis lowkey being a sugar daddy, (sex spoilers after this,) legal use of alcohol, consensual sex!!!, lewis is really good at dirty talking lol, lewis has a big dick haha, oral sex (m and f receiving,) multiple orgasms (f receiving,) belly bulge, praise (m and f receiving,) lewis hamilton aftercare king

chapter one word count: 5.3k (3k words of porn tho don't worry)

taglist: @pear-1206 @vivi-81 @irishmanwhore

join my taglist here!

you made me an offer i can't refuse

thursday, 23 may, 2019

you push out a shaky breath, smoothing out the invisible wrinkles in your outfit one last time before stepping out of your hotel room. today is the day you've been both dreading and looking forward to for the past two weeks- the day you interview the one and only lewis hamilton at the monaco grand prix media day.

when you'd been offered the opportunity for a one-on-one interview with one of the most iconic faces in both the fashion and motorsports world, you thought you were dreaming. turns out that the journalist who had originally been assigned to the project had a family emergency and needed time off of work, so the chance to lead the project was yours and yours alone. of course, once you realized that you were not dreaming, you accepted. despite your preparation, you're still terrified. you have ten questions at the ready in your small notebook that you've read over and attempted to memorize approximately twelve times each hour for the past three days, but the practice does nothing to soothe your anxiety.

"fuck it," you say to yourself, inspecting your makeup one last time before slipping your feet into your signature shoes- platform high top converse. once on the streets of monaco, you hail a cab to take you to the circuit, your black and purple media badge secure in your purse. your stomach is twisting with anxiety the whole way there, and when you pay the driver and step out of the cab, it only increases tenfold.

you're about to interview lewis hamilton. no big deal.

yeah.

not a big deal at all.

the next hour and a half is a whirlwind of meeting with lewis' manager to getting your questions checked over to getting a tour of the media center to seeing the recording booth where you're going to be interviewing the driver. it's a nice room, but it's separate from the rest of the media areas, so you assume it's likely not normally for recording podcasts.

"how long do i have before the interview?" you ask, turning to lewis' pr manager.

"about twenty minutes, but lewis is going to be here in ten for soundcheck. make yourself comfortable for now, can i get you anything? water, tea, coffee?"

"a cup of tea would be lovely, thank you." you smile and nod, sitting down inside the booth on the plush couch. in a feeble attempt to quell your nerves, you take your mini notebook out of your bag and go over the questions for the umpteenth time today, but the words on the page blur together as you try to squish down the stirring in your stomach.

"here's the tea for you," someone says, and you're expecting it to be the manager you'd spoken to, but when you look up, you're met with an unfairly beautiful face. oh. okay. this is happening. you're casually accepting a cup of tea from five-time world champion lewis hamilton. the man you're about to interview.

no big deal.

the interview goes by without any hiccups, and, before you know it, your hour in the booth is up, and you say your on-camera goodbyes before they stop recording. as you're about to leave, though, lewis gently touches your upper arm and asks to speak to you for a moment-

only if you don't have something to rush to, of course- and your heart leaps into your throat. had you said something wrong or hit a sensitive nerve with one of your questions?

"i want to thank you. not a lot of reporters are able to ask questions beyond the simple 'how do you plan on winning this weekend' and 'what changes are you going to make based on mistakes made at the previous race,' so i applaud you. your questions were really different from what i was expecting, and your interview style is really unique. i enjoyed talking to you." he extends his hand and you shake it firmly, your chest feeling like it might just explode with pride.

"thank you, mr. hamilton. i'm incredibly grateful for the opportunity to speak with you, and i'm looking forward to any i may have in the future." the driver beams, and you can't help but notice the way his eyes crinkle at the corners. it's annoyingly pretty.

"i won't have any of this 'mr. hamilton' nonsense. call me lewis. after talking to you for an hour, i can tell that you're very knowledgeable when it comes to both motor sports and fashion, which is really impressive. and i look forward to speaking with you in the future, too." the two of you chat for a few more minutes before he's summoned once more, and you bid your goodbyes.

a few minutes later, as you're trying to calm down your heart rate so that you can maintain some small semblance of composure before returning to the outside world, one of your long-time friends from college approaches you from behind, and, in her standard fashion, scares the shit out of you.

"boo."

you shriek, your previous efforts to stabilize your heart rate now entirely in vain. "christ, amelia! do you have to sneak up on me everywhere?"

"absolutely. i also have something to tell you something." your eyebrows furrow as she almost instantly moves on from the fact that she nearly scared you half to death mere seconds ago, but you almost fully pass away by choking on your saliva two seconds later. "you've got it really down bad for him, and you're not subtle about it. at all."

after you're done recovering from yet another near-death experience, you punch her left arm. hard. "you are so lucky i don't have a weapon right now." amelia laughs, her head thrown back and her shoulders bouncing with delight.

"awe, come on." she smiles at you, her eyes glittering in their signature way, signaling that she's about to drag you into a potentially messy and new situation. "you know that the rules state very clearly that there's a zero-tolerance policy for physical or verbal harassment."

i got it bad for you, so baby

thursday, 28 november, 2019.

it's your third time interviewing lewis in the 2019 season, and since you first spoke to him at the monaco grand prix, things have changed for both of you. following the success of your interview with him at the monaco grand prix and the article you wrote to go along with it, you'd been promoted from your previous position as fashion field journalist to the lofty title of fashion and sports researcher and journalist. as soon as lewis hears the news, he's sure to congratulate you, this time at one of the biggest spectacles in motorsports: the abu dhabi grand prix. you can't help but beam with pride when he mentions your new title, thanking him again for his time, and remembering to call him by his first name despite how strange it feels.

"i should be congratulating you on something, as well, six-time world champion," you grin, happy as your friendly banter with lewis seems to fall into place. your first time meeting him, you were so terrified of saying something wrong that you didn't let yourself really let go and show your personality. the second time, in mexico, you were able to relax a little bit more and even crack a few jokes. today, you're all smiles and even got breakfast with him before the scheduled meeting time. one anxiety you'd voiced was that the same paparazzi that you've worked with in the past don't take photos of you with the driver and sell them to the media, which would undoubtedly start a pr disaster for both of you.

"if you'd rather have breakfast in the paddock, i can have that set up," he'd offered, and, once again, who would you be to decline such a kind offer?

so here you find yourself, enjoying an expertly brewed italian iced coffee and two perfectly crumbly strawberry scones, sitting across from the reigning world champion of motorsport.

you know, standard thursdays.

"one thing i don't think i've mentioned before," lewis begins, setting down his cup of tea, "is how much i admire that you try to find the human behind the driver."

your eyebrows furrow. "i don't think i follow."

"i now realize my wording is really weird. let me fix that." you laugh, taking another bite of your scone. "you don't exclusively ask questions about driving. you dig into our hobbies and interests outside of the paddock. in my experience, the way you balance questions for both motorsports and fashion is fascinating."

"it's all part of the job. i wouldn't be where i am without interesting questions, would i?" lewis smiles, shaking his head.

"i doubt it, but you are pretty damn smart. i bet you'd find a way to make it here one way or another."

"i'm flattered."

the conversation continues easily as the two of you finish your breakfast, then, as you begin to prepare yourself to stand and leave, he stops you. "actually, there's one last thing i wanted to do before we went on camera."

your head tilts in confusion as you set your signature lipstick back in your bag, a deep red balm that you've used since you started working at vogue. it's become your trademark product, and almost everyone in the office knows exactly which one you use. "do i need to be worried, lewis?"

"no, not at all! it's this," he says, and your eyebrows rise in complete and utter shock when he pulls out a small box wrapped in white paper and a crimson bow wrapped around it all. "i wanted to get you a gift as a way of saying thank you for all the curveball questions you've thrown at me this year." your hands shake as you take the box from him, and you already know exactly which brand it is. cartier. sure, you've written pieces about their timeless looks and elegant aesthetics, and owning a piece of their jewelry has always been a dream of yours, but it's always been just that: a dream.

"lewis, i can't accept this. i- i'm honestly at a loss for words. seriously, no." you can't help but flush at how he's looking at you, those annoyingly beautiful eyes of his and the stupidly perfect crow's feet that only show up when he really smiles- when he smiles the way he is now. gods, amelia was right. you really are down bad for the driver.

"please, just open it up. if you don't like it, i'll take it back and you can choose something you prefer." he nudges the box towards you once more, and the crisp wax seal that sits on top of the paper is incredibly enticing.

"are you serious?" a part of you wants to think that this is some sick joke, that there's cameras on you and it's all going up on one of those prank channels on youtube. a much, much bigger part of you believes lewis, though. that is the part of you that takes the box between your shaking hands, carefully pops open the wax seal, nimbly unties the beautiful ribbon, and gently unfolds the pure white paper. when you finally open the box, you gasp, tears threatening to well in your eyes. "lewis..."

"do you like it?" his voice sounds anxious and hopeful, and you can't help but realize how much thought he'd put into this gift. when you'd invited him into your office to review some photos that were to go into an article in the next vogue issue a few months prior, he'd seen the vision board on your wall and asked about it. bashfully, you had explained to him that it was a silly idea you had when you graduated from uni with your friends- each of you made one, cutting and pasting photos from pinterest, magazines, newspapers, and anything you could find, assembling your dreams in a mishmash of colors and ideas. one of your dreams on the board had been to own this exact necklace- the cartier juste un clou necklace in white gold. the fourteen diamonds set in the precious metal glitter back at you, and you can't help but smile.

"i love it, lewis. thank you so much." he visibly relaxes, his shoulders loosening and the crease between his eyebrows disappearing.

"i'm glad. here, turn around. let me put it on you?" you happily oblige, lifting your hair out of the way after you stand so that he can fasten the delicate clasp over your spine.

it's safe to say that both his and your fans noticed the necklace hanging between your collarbones, sitting just below the star necklace you wear daily on top of your dark grey high-collared shirt. you try your best not to look at the comments on the videos of your interviews, but amelia had shown you one that day after the unedited interview went up online.

"are they dating or something? i can't get over how lewis looks at her."

sunday, 1 december, 2019

after the race, lewis crossing the line not only in p1, more than 16 seconds ahead of the rest of the grid, but with the fastest lap, as well, you're sure to congratulate him on your social media accounts and in person in the pit lane. "lewis!" his head turns at the sound of your voice, and he sees you moving as quickly as you can down the pit lane, neon green paddock pass hanging from your neck alongside the black and purple media pass. your signature converse and light wash jeans complete your outfit, and his heart swells with joy when he sees that you're still wearing the necklace he gave you.

"hey! i'm glad they let you down here after the race. i was a bit worried i'd have to wring a security guard's neck to get you down here."

"aw, you'd do that for little old me?"

"i'd do just about anything for the most interesting reporter in the paddock," he replies, ever so cocky and so annoyingly pretty. seriously, was he a saint or something in his past life? it feels painfully unfair that he was blessed with such perfect looks and charm. it makes your stomach twist with a flirty giddiness you haven't felt since you were a teenager. it's exciting. "are you coming to the after party?"

"i don't know if i'll be able to. i have a lot to do in the next few days and i honestly don't know if i'm going to be able to take a break on the plane back to london. i'll probably be sitting in my seat going over notes and writing up an article or answering an obscene amount of emails."

"please? just one night? i'll buy your drinks." he bats his eyes at you, and it really shouldn't make you fold as easily as it does, but here you are, sitting in his mercedes and driving to a probably very heinously overpriced club.

a girl needs to be a passenger princess every now and then, right?

when you arrive at the club, you have to force your lips to stay closed so that your jaw doesn't drop in shock and awe. paparazzi swarm you as soon as you step out of the car and lewis hands the keys to the valet, and for a moment, you're convinced this is some sort of sick and twisted fever dream as microphones are shoved in your direction and cameras flash quickly enough to make you glad you don't have photosensitive epilepsy. when lewis' hand rests on the small of your back and he smiles brightly at you, though, you're reassured that this is very much real.

"after you." you smile back at him, your own anxiety lessening just a tiny bit now that you know that he's right there by you.

pretty please, come on over and ruin my life

how did you end up here?

you'll blame it on the alcohol.

either way, lewis' lips feel amazing on yours, and you waddle slightly as he backs you up to the bed in his extravagant hotel room. "need this off," he mutters, hands searching under your shirt and gripping at your waist. your brain is a foggy mess of lust, alcohol, and a lot more lust, and as quickly as you can, you pull back from the kiss (much to lewis' dismay,) tug your shirt out of your waistband and yank it over your head, tossing it somewhere to your right. almost immediately, strong arms wrap back around your torso and you're caged in, and every single one of your senses is flooded with lewis, lewis, lewis. his skin is hot underneath where your hands lay, your right on his cheek and your left clutching the side of his neck as if letting go would result in falling off the face of the earth.

his kisses are messy, desperate, and wet. his tongue glides along your own and you moan wantonly, the noise only further spurring on his efforts. as you lay back against the bed, lewis kisses his way down your chest (when did your bra come off?), lavishing each of your breasts with his tongue and hands. one hand works over your flesh, kneading and pinching while his tongue licks over your right nipple, gently biting and sucking and smirking when you moan once again, switching to the other side. "lewis, oh my god-" you interrupt yourself with an embarrassingly loud whine, your back arching as deft fingers pop open the button on your jeans, unzip the fly, and slip into your panties.

"fuck, darling, so wet for me already," lewis groans, his head buried into your neck as he bites gently at the sensitive skin there. "i'm gonna have to get a taste before i fuck you."

"yes, oh my god, please," you whine, the mere thought of the driver between your thighs making another rush of butterflies flood your lower tummy. you almost laugh when you realize that you still have your converse on and he's struggling with the laces, so you lift yourself up off of the bed and shoo his hands away, instead expertly undoing the white laces in less than ten seconds and kicking them off your feet, leaning back onto your elbows as they hit the ground with a muffled thump. "you are way too overdressed."

sure, you've seen photos of lewis shirtless before, but it doesn't compare to seeing it in person and up close, and...

fuck.

he's beautiful.

"that's not fair."

"what?" lewis laughs, crawling back over you after you both pull your pants off and toss them to the side, and your breath briefly catches in your throat as the scent of his cologne overwhelms your senses.

"you aren't allowed to be nice and hot. it doesn't work like that." lewis laughs, leaning down to press another kiss to your lips that intoxicates you more than any of the high proof alcohols you've drank in the past few hours.

"well, i guess i'm a rule breaker, then." he shuffles you up the bed so that your head rests on the plush pillows, sighing in relief when you think he's finally going to fuck you, but you gasp when he slides his way back down to your thighs, pulls them apart with his hands, and settles between them. "fuck."

"lewis, please. need you."

"what do you need, baby?" he teases as his hands begin stroking up and down your thighs. you're about to respond, but you cut yourself off with a cry when his fingers gently stroke up your panty-covered slit, the sensitivity making your back arch and your hands grip the sheets tightly.

"fucking hell, i... i need you to eat me out."

"i thought you'd never ask." his fingers tug at the waistband of your panties and you lift your hips slightly, just enough for him to slide them off of your legs and add them to the growing pile of clothing on the floor. without wasting a second, he dives into your cunt, tongue dragging along your slit from your entrance all the way up to your clit, and you both moan in unison. his hands grab at the meat of your ass, pulling your hips closer to his face, and you yelp, but it's quickly cut off with another moan as lewis' tongue prods at your entrance, hot and insistent.

"mmgh, lewis, fuck, so good." you barely have any control over your own mouth as lewis eats you out, his tongue expertly lapping up every part of your cunt as if it's the best meal he's ever tasted. he quickly figures out what makes you twitch and moan and focuses on that, his nose bumping against your clit as his jaw hinges open and he swallows you whole. his hands tightly grip your ass, the pads of his fingers digging into the skin and definitely leaving some form of marks to appear later in the night, but that's the least of your concerns when you have the world champion of motorsport between your legs. the moans that tumble past your lips echo off of the bare walls of the lavish hotel room, but not a single noise you make is embellished in the slightest- he's just making you feel that good. the coil in your tummy builds and builds, but your brain has been reduced to mush from pleasure, so you have to resort to scrabbling your hands at whatever you can grab, your fingers ultimately tugging at his neat braids. lewis thankfully gets the hint and only increases his efforts, his left hand moving from your ass to gently push two fingers into your entrance, and, when he curls them upwards, perfectly hitting your g-spot, you nearly sob, your orgasm hitting you a lot sooner than you had anticipated. "oh, lewis, don't stop, please. feels so good, baby, fuck."

lewis helps you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm, pulling his fingers out of you and pressing a tender kiss to your hipbone before climbing back up to you and connecting your lips in yet another messy kiss, and you groan when you can taste your cum on his tongue. when lewis' boxer-covered erection grinds against your sensitive clit, your mouth falls open in a gasp, letting him take the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth and run against yours. when you kiss him, it feels like you've stepped through the gates of heaven and you're kissing an angel. you suck greedily on lewis' tongue and he moans in response, making you smile into the kiss.

lewis pulls back momentarily and you pout, but the sight before you is absolutely beautiful. his skin glows with a thin sheen of sweat and his lips and chin are covered in a mix of your cum and spit. it's gorgeous. "are you okay with this?"

"more than okay," you grin, leaning up to peck his lips quickly. "it's fantastic."

"in that case, i'd love to fuck you properly..." at his words and the feeling of his lips ghosting down the side of your neck, pressing feather-light kisses along the sensitive skin, you shiver, your hands coming to rest on the sides of his torso. "if you'll have me, of course."

"please do." with another smile, lewis pushes himself up and off the bed, returning promptly with a condom in his hand. you bite your lip and watch eagerly as he pulls down his boxers, and...

fuck.

you're fucked.

"seriously, lewis? are you kidding?" your head falls back with an exasperated laugh, your shoulders shaking as you realize: of course he's big. if he's nice and attractive, then it's almost a guarantee that he's going to have a big dick. "you really just have it all, don't you?" the mattress dips, and you raise your head again, looking back at him as he crawls towards you, almost catlike in his motions.

"i could say the same for you. beautiful, kind, intelligent, an absolutely killer ass..." you scoff and roll your eyes, trying to come up with a cocky response, but your brain short circuits when you feel lewis begin to push the head of his cock into you. "oh, fuck."

"lewis, oh my god," you keen, your hands reaching up and finding purchase on his broad shoulders for stability. his left hand holds your waist while his right grips at your hip, the tightness of his hold almost painful... almost.

"baby, you're so tight. taking me so well. 's like you were made for me." you're pretty sure the words spilling from lewis' mouth are just mindless, sex-brain-induced babbles, but either way, it makes your pussy throb around him, and you both groan in pleasure when his hips finally meet yours. he looks down at you and almost chokes- you look absolutely stunning. your eyes are screwed shut, your lips parted as breathy moans sneak their way past them, and your hair is splayed around your head like a halo.

when you finally manage to pry your eyes open and steady your breathing, lewis is gazing down at you, and you can't help but pull him down for yet another kiss. how many times have you kissed him tonight?

not enough, you decide.

between soft and slow kisses, you breathe out the words that lewis has been praying you'll say: "you can move, lew." when he does, slowly pulling out most of the way before pushing back in, the drag of his cock against your walls makes you shudder, your nails digging into his shoulders and undoubtedly leaving crescent-moon shaped divots in the skin. "oh... oh, fuck, baby."

"you like that, baby? you like having my cock inside of you?"

all you can muster in response is a meek "mhmm," but that isn't enough for him. he grabs your face, forcing you to look at him, and halts his steady thrusts, making you whine.

"use your words. i know you can- you showed me this morning."

"yes!" you sob. "yes, i love feeling you fill me up. i love it, lewis. it feels so good. feels perfect."

"there you go. i knew you could do it." his words make you moan even louder as he resumes his thrusts, this time at a much faster pace. "fuck, look at that. taking me so well... i can even see it. gimme your hand, baby. feel it yourself." he places your left hand low on your stomach, just between your hipbones, and... oh.

oh.

you can feel his dick filling you up under your hand.

"lewis, oh my god!" your moans only increase in volume with his own when he presses down onto the bulge in your tummy with his hand, changing how deeply you feel him, and it sends you hurtling towards your second orgasm of the night embarrassingly fast. "fuck, fuck, lewis, don't stop. feels so good, baby, just like that, yes!" your own hand sneaks around his wrist and rubs circles around your clit, which makes you clench around him, which in turn throws you into your orgasm. "lewis, 'm cumming, 'm cumming, ah!"

"just like that, baby, cum for me. so perfect. so, so perfect." lewis talks and fucks you through your orgasm, his own fingers taking over when yours falter on your clit. when the end of your orgasm trails off, you try to catch your breath, but when your post-orgasmic clarity dawns on you, you realize that lewis didn't cum.

"oh, fuck, lewis... let me suck you off. you didn't cum."

"are you sure? i'm-" he cuts himself off with a grunt, his hips stuttering as he slows his thrusts so as to not hurt you in your oversensitive state, but when you nod, your bottom lip pinched seductively between your teeth, he gives in. "alright, yeah. yeah." he pulls out of you and you roll over, shuffling your way down the bed until you're settled between his legs, your arms resting on his upper thighs.

"you're so pretty, lewis. so, so pretty." if it was a bit brighter in the room, you would've seen the way lewis' mouth ticks open and his dick twitches at your praise, but the singular bedside lamp is barely enough to light the room. instead of noticing, you gently peel the condom off of his cock and toss it in the trash can underneath the bedside table, then settle back between lewis' legs and let a fat drop of saliva leak onto his cock.

"fuck, if you keep saying things like that i'm not gonna last long," lewis groans, his head thrown back into the pillows.

"oh, you don't want to hear me call you pretty? you don't want me to say that you're one of the most beautiful people i've ever laid eyes on, and that i've waited months to be here just to tell you that?" your hand begins lazily stroking his hard cock as you continue rambling shamelessly, your mind a sex-addled haze that you have nearly no control over. after watching in awe as a pearly bead of precum swells at the head of lewis' cock, you decide that enough is enough and that you have to taste him. your tongue falls out of your mouth, the flat of it brushing up the bottom of his dick until you reach the tip, and then you secure your lips around it, and fuck, if having the taste of lewis' cum on your tongue isn't enough to make your eyes flutter shut for a moment, you don't know what is.

lewis' hand finds itself in your hair, pulling gently as you begin to bob your head along the length of his dick, and you can't help but feel pride bloom in your chest when his hips begin bucking up to meet your mouth and hand, shoving the tip so far back you swear the back of your throat might be slightly bruised in the morning. you moan shamelessly as he does so, letting him fuck your mouth as he pleases until he cums, warm ropes of sticky fluid filling your mouth as he spills into you. pulling off, you swallow part of his load and clean what little remains off of his softening cock with gentle kitten licks, smiling faintly as he whimpers quietly at the oversensitivity. after crawling up to the head of the bed and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, lewis' eyes search yours before dipping down to your mouth. you're a bit confused as his left hand comes up to your face, thinking he's going to kiss you again, but instead, his thumb swipes against the corner of your mouth and pries past your lips, a silent order that you obey willingly. you'd missed one tiny drop of his cum on your cheek. his thumb pops out of your mouth momentarily and you collapse down next to him, the exhaustion of the jam-packed day finally catching up to you.

"i'm gonna go grab a towel to clean you up, yeah?" you nod sleepily, a quiet hum escaping your body. "you're staying here tonight. i won't stand for letting you out of my bed for the next twelve hours." this time, if a question mark could be a sound, that's the noise you make. lewis understands you, though. "we'll take my jet. don't worry about your fight." another content sound from you.

by the time lewis returns to the bed, warm damp washcloth in hand, you're asleep, and he can't help but tuck the strands of hair out of your face after he cleans up your swollen cunt and tucks you into the soft bedding, joining you shortly thereafter.

yeah.

he's fucked.

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hyunniesgirl · 1 year ago

Text

Another Love | part 1

Summary: you've been hopelessly in love with Han since you were children. One night you confess your feelings to him.

Words count: 8,539

Warnings for this part: lots of angst, drunk people, drunk Han is petty asf

A/N: So I made that pool asking if I should post this fic in chapters or a 20,000+ words chapter and the long ass chapter won but at the time my mind told me I would be able to finish the whole fic before posting it... Jokes on me I need validation and feedback for me to write so yeah let's do this in chapters, sorry

A/N2: I had this idea for quite some time now but got suddenly inspired listening to the song another love.

You're done. Really, you can't take it anymore. You've known Han Jisung since elementary school, you have been basically joined at the hip since then, your parents even became best friends because of you two.

You don't know exactly when you fell in love with him, was it on your second day at school when he invited you to play with him because he noticed you were all alone? Was it when someone made an awkward joke about your messed up hair cut in second grade and he picked a fight with them? Maybe it was the very first moment you laid eyes on him, joking around with everyone and being the most popular kid in the classroom. You really can't remember, but the thing you're sure of is: Han Jisung doesn't like you back.

You've always known that, but inside you there was a tiny bit of hope that one day he would wake up and suddenly love you back.

That didn't happen though. You are now 23 and he has never ever shown the smallest amount of romantic interest in you.

"That's fine", you thought to yourself, ever since you realized your feelings for him, "I'm going to stay with him his entire life, that doesn't sound so bad"

Until it started to sound really bad. What are you gonna do? See him getting a girlfriend, then getting engaged and eventually married? Would you always be there on the sidelines listening to his lovesick whines about the woman he loves so much? Would you be the godmother to his children? By then, would you have gotten over him already? Or would you keep this up forever, marrying someone just because you can't stay alone and being in love with your best friend for the rest of your life? That was the moment you knew you had to stop, you can't keep this up.

Coincidentally Han broke up with his last girlfriend a few months ago, you thought that would be a good opportunity for you to be his rebound, yeah, pretty dignified of you.

So you dress up really pretty, hair up, a dress that always made Han compliment you and to finish it off—the necklace he gave you on your 12th birthday.

You think this is it, this is the day you're going to tell him how much you love him and maybe, just maybe he will contemplate giving you a chance.

When he arrives at your shared apartment, with two cans of beer and fried chicken, you give him a cheerful greeting, setting the table and trying to gather courage to speak.

"So, how was practice?", you begin, maybe some small talk will help you relax.

"It was good, we are almost done with the album", he says, typing something on his phone. "How was your day?", he asks, putting the device on the table and looking at you.

"Good, I had class in the morning and tutoring in the afternoon", you take a sip of your beer, "one of the mothers actually recommended me to other parents and I'm gonna start tutoring more students next week"

He smiles, "that's good, you're really smart"

You blush, bringing the back of your hands to your face to try and lessen the hot skin of your cheeks with the cold of your hands.

"Actually, I want to talk to you", you start, it's now or never.

"Sure-", Jisung stops mid sentence when his phone buzzes. "Just a minute", he looks at the screen and smiles, your heart sinks at the sight. You know that smile too well, you have seen it dozens of times. You feel your insides turning over. It's the smile meant only for the person he likes.

"Hey, Lia. Yeah, totally, I can talk right now", he picks up the call and once again asks you for a minute lifting his index finger, he walks towards the balcony and closes the glass door after going through it.

He's laughing about something, is she even that funny or is he just trying to win her favor? She's pretty, you know it. All of his girlfriends looked like models. You sigh, looking at yourself and feeling awful, suddenly you don't feel pretty anymore, you actually feel ridiculous.

Why did you think things would change just because you got brave enough to speak up? Jisung sees you as a best friend and nothing more, you have to come to terms with that.

Your mind is rushing, thinking about what you're going to do now? Can you keep being friends with him? Yeah, of course, he's your best friend, you won't end your friendship because you can't control your feelings. But you'll need time, right? You won't be able to get over this unrequited love if you keep seeing him everyday, doing everything with him and sleeping in the same house.

"So, what do you want to talk about?", he asks, sitting again. You didn't even notice he had come back inside.

You sigh, you'll tell him about it all and then you'll find the strength in you to move on.

"I like you", you say so low you're not sure he heard you. But he did, he smiles and chuckles.

"I like you too, we're best friends for a reason", he stretches his arm to take a fried chicken.

"No, I like like you", you admit, hugging yourself, feeling cold suddenly, you look around and see Han left the door to the balcony open. "I've been in love with you since I can remember", you complete.

The look on his face would be funny if it wasn't tragic, his brows are furrowed in confusion and his eyes have a very familiar look: fear. Of course, he's afraid of losing his best friend, you already guessed that much.

"Y/N I-", you notice his breathing quickening. "I'm sorry, I never knew", he says, shoulders slumping, his arms dropping to the side of his body.

"Yeah, I know you didn't", you say. He's still staring at you with so much hurt in his eyes. Jisung knows he will have to turn you down and it's going to hurt him a lot, but not as much as it will hurt you and he never ever wanted to hurt you.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what to say", he takes a deep breath, "I never thought about you in that way, I'm really sorry, I don't feel the same"

You're not going to cry, you decided that the moment you saw fear in his eyes. It's not his fault you like him, he can't fall in love with you just because you love him. You're not going to cry and make him feel worse than you can tell he's already feeling. But listening to those words it's worse than you could have expected, you feel like the world is crumbling around you.

"I know you don't", you smile sadly.

He looks more confused now.

"Then, why did you tell me?"

"It's just… I'm done with all this", you reply, getting up from your chair.

"Done with our friendship?" Han can feel all the air leaving his body while he waits for your answer.

You chuckle, fidgeting with your foot.

"No, I don't think I could ever be done with that", you smile trying to reassure him and he feels so relieved. "I can't keep doing this, I can't continue seeing you with other people and stay hurting alone"

"I can stop bringing people to the apartment and I'll never talk about them around you", he says trying to help and your stomach sinks a lot more. Why does he have to be so sweet?

"Actually, I'll need some time", you clear your throat, "I think I'm going to stay with Seungmin for the time being, he is looking for a roommate"

Han's eyes widen and he gets up, walking towards you.

"What are you talking about? Are you going to move out?"

"It's not something definitive, I'm going to stay there until he finds a new roommate and come back after that", you take a step back, noticing how close he is to you. "Luckily by then I'll be over you, I think I just need some personal space for now, where you're not there everytime I look, or your things aren't mixed with mine or your scent isn't around every room"

"Will you still speak to me?", he asks, he wants to hug you, to hold you in his arms and say how sorry he is for not feeling the same. But he knows he can't, the best thing he can do is to keep his distance from you right now.

"I think we should keep it restricted to apartment things for now, I'll keep paying my half of the rent since my things will still be here"

"You don't have to pay if you're not here"

Ever since Jisung started making good money he insisted that you didn't have to pay for rent since you only work part time as a tutor to pay for your living expenses but you always refused. Even though he earns a lot more than you it wouldn't be fair for him to be the only one paying and honestly, you felt that if he was the only one paying for it, you would feel too much like you were a couple.

"No, I'll pay you. This arrangement doesn't change the fact that we still share the apartment"

He nods, looking down, the awkward silence making you sick.

"I'm really sorry I hurt you", he whispers and all the crying you avoided over this whole conversation threatens to come out at that exact moment.

"It's not your fault", you say, "I'm sorry I made things awkward, just give me some time and we'll be back to how things were, okay?", you give him a reassuring smile even though you're not sure things will ever go back to the way it was.

You wake up feeling like shit, you cried your eyes out the moment you stepped into Seungmin's apartment. He was so sweet to you, staying awake until you calmed down and even offered you his room for you to sleep but you refused. He was already doing you a favor by letting you stay on his couch until he found a roommate.

You sit, stretching yourself, you slept pretty comfortably but all the stress from last night left your muscles sore.

"Are you feeling better?", you hear Seungmin's voice and look at the kitchen, he's making coffee. That reminds you of all the days you woke Han up with a nice and hot coffee so he wouldn't be in a bad mood waking up so early.

"I don't think so", you answer, shaking your head like that would make your thoughts disappear. "Can you get me some of that?", you ask and he smiles.

"Already on it", you start tidying up the blanket and the pillow you used.

"What are you going to do today?", Seungmin asks while you sit at the table.

"I have some tutoring to do and class in the afternoon, maybe I'll go shopping with Hannah later"

"That's good, try to keep yourself entertained at least for the next couple of days", he hands you the mug and you nod.

All your friends knew about your crush on Han and you made all of them swear they wouldn't tell him. You were afraid things would be awkward now, since Han was their friend before you met them, but they all showed you support now that you had confessed.

Hannah had offered you to stay with her, but she has a roommate that's really strict about everything in their apartment and you don't want to cause trouble to your friend by staying there. Luckily Seungmin's last roommate had moved a couple of weeks ago and he was looking for someone new, but by the way he's picky that's not going to happen so soon.

"Since I'll be staying here and you won't accept money because I won't be using a room, the groceries will be on me and I won't accept no for an answer", you say finishing your coffee and getting up. Seungmin sighs, rolling his eyes.

"I know you're going to buy it anyway, so I'll accept it"

"Then send me a list of whatever you need and I'll buy it tonight or tomorrow", you blow him a kiss, picking your bag from the floor and heading to the bathroom.

You take a long, hot, refreshing shower and pick some comfortable clothes to go to your tutoring session.

Seungmin's already gone when you go back to the kitchen, there's a message from him on your phone.

Minnie: I left some sliced fruit in the fridge for you, eat before going out.

Minnie: I'll send you the list later btw

You smile, having someone taking care of you is nice. For a second, it makes you forget the reason why you're there to begin with.

You feel like crying again, but you can't show up to your students house with red eyes and a puffy face.

The parents that are near each other usually ask you to teach their children together in longer sessions. That strengthens the bond the kids have while strengthening the connection between the families. That usually happens when the families are wealthy, they see an opportunity in their children's friendship to get on each other's good side.

Your parents started hanging out with Jisung's parents too, not because of connections but because you two were always in each other's houses. Once, you broke your arm falling from a tree you tried to climb following Han, his mother had to call yours and calm her down on the phone the entire time your mother was driving to the hospital to meet you. That day you got scolded by both and after they finished the lecture they looked at each other and smiled, bonding over the fear of something happening to their precious child.

When they went out to buy some coffee and talk, Jisung sat by the side of your hospital bed, lips pouting and tearing up.

"I'm sorry I dared you to follow me all the way up there", he says, taking the hand of your good arm and holding it.

"It's okay, now at least I have an exciting story to tell the others", you say and he smiles, whipping his eyes.

The noise of the gate opening wakes you up from your daydream, you have to stop thinking about Han if you want to get over him.

The kids come running in your direction the moment the housekeeper opens the door.

"Miss Y/N, look I got a 9.5 on my test", the girl smiles brightly showing you the paper with the grade marked in red.

"Woah, Misu, you're so smart, I don't think you even need me anymore", you bend to her height and she pouts, sometimes she acts like a little child when she's already 12.

"Of course I need you, you're the prettiest and smartest person I know", she says and you hear someone clear their throats by the stairs. It's Misu's mother.

"If I didn't agree with her I'd be hurt", she says and you smile.

"Good morning, Mrs. Kim, I only helped a little, Misu's really smart", you say and the girl shows you her white teeth, looking at her mother and waiting for some praise.

"Of course she is", she pats the girl's head. "Eun, aren't you going to say hi to Y/N?"

The boy is a few months younger than Misu but a lot more shy. You saw him coming with her when you arrived but got so engrossed in your conversation that forgot he was there in silence.

"Hello, miss Y/N", he says, polite as ever.

"Hi, Eun, did you get a good grade like Misu?"

He nods, showing you his test with 9.8 marked in red.

"He's smarter than me", Misu pouts.

"Congratulations, Eun", you say, patting his head, making him blush and you smile. "I think you are both really smart and I'm here to help you get even smarter"

Mrs. Kim tells you to go ahead and start the lesson and invites you to stay for lunch. You were pretty lucky with the parents you met till now, all of them were nice to you and cared a great deal about their children so it's a lighthearted job to do.

The kids are indeed smart, usually you don't have to explain the same thing more than twice and they always ask a lot of questions during your time with them.

A week goes by since you last saw Jisung, fortunately he didn't try contacting you. You're sure that if he did you'd break hearing his voice and would beg for him to like you back, giving up on any pride you still have left.

You arrive at school an hour before your classes begin, you're meeting Hannah at the cafe nearby so you can talk a bit.

You look at your phone, there's a message from her saying she's on the bus but the traffic is awful so she might be a little bit late.

You choose a table by the window, contemplating if you should order already or wait till Hannah arrives.

Looking outside, you remember the moment you heard the news that you got into this university. Yours and Jisung's family were at your parents house, you both were seated on the couch when you received the message saying the college entrance results came out. You couldn't type your information, you were trembling so much Han had to do it for you.

When you read your name and the word "accepted" you actually screamed, making your mother drop the plate she had in hands. Your father and Han's came running to see what happened when Jisung showed them the screen.

Your mother and father embraced you, telling how proud they were of you and Jisung's parents did the same, like you were their own daughter.

Jisung wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, spinning you and making you burst out laughing. That moment was so good, you wanted to stay there forever.

"Earth to Y/N", you hear Hanna's voice and snap out of your thoughts, sighing. "Is everything okay?", she asks, worried.

"Yeah, I'm good", you say and she narrows her eyes, knowing you are not telling the truth.

Hannah left it at that though, you are going through a hard time and she doesn't want to push it.

Honestly, she don't expect you to be fine. Your lifelong crush had rejected you and to make things worse he is your best friend, so yeah, of course you are not okay.

"Then, I'm going to order", she drops her bag in the seat in front of you, "your usual?"

You nod, seeing her walk to the cashier. You met Hannah three years ago, when you started college. She's the total opposite of you, really outgoing and a total social butterfly, it seems those are the people you attract seeing how Han is the same.

She sat by your side on the first day, making a random joke and making you laugh, that's how she became your best friend. You didn't even have to tell her about your one sided love, she had to see only one interaction between you and Jisung to know exactly what was going on.

She is the one that urged you to tell him about your feelings and was very adamant about you moving on from him, she couldn't let you waste all your 20's being in love with someone that didn't like you back… or not the way you wanted to.

"So, I heard about a party", Hannah says, putting the pager on the table and sitting in front of you.

"There's like a hundred of those, you have to be more specific", you joke and she rolls her eyes.

"You know that guy from English literature? The one that dyed his hair pink last semester?"

"Yeah, it's kinda hard to forget about him", you laugh.

When Yunho came to school with pink hair a rumor of him becoming an idol started going around, everyone tried to be nice to him and all that shit but it turned out he just lost a bet.

"He's hosting this party in like a really big fancy place to celebrate his graduation", she finishes.

"That's nice", you say, fidgeting with your fingers under the table.

"Hmmm, are we going to go or what?", she asks and you glance at her.

"Were we invited?"

"Ahm, you're hot and I'm hot, why wouldn't we be invited?"

You laugh, knowing what she's doing. Hannah is more sensible than you give her credit for, you really thought she would ask about everything that happened on that night, but instead she has been trying to distract you for the past week and that is really nice of her.

She smiles, seeing you smile. Hannah knows you never give enough credit to yourself, you never think you're pretty enough, funny enough, cool enough or smart enough even though you're those things and much more. She approached you on your first day because there's just something about you, something bright and cheerful. When people are upset, mad or sad you always do your best to make them feel better, so Hannah felt this was her time to cheer you up.

The pager buzzes on the table and she gets up, going to the counter to get your orders.

You look at her coming back with a big grin in her lips, handing you the coffee with a note glued to the cup sleeve.

"To the girl with the yellow cardigan, I see you coming here often and I think you're cute, maybe we can hangout sometime? If you're up to it, text me: xxx xxxx-xxxx"

You blush, looking at the counter and seeing the cutest guy looking at you with flushed cheeks. He's so red you can see it from where you're seated. He smiles waving at you and you wave back.

Hannah has one eyebrow lifted looking at your interaction and you feel your cheeks even hotter.

"So, are you going to text him?", she asks, reading the note and you sigh.

"I don't think so", you say, sipping at your coffee.

"Why not?"

"I don't think it would be fair to someone if I start something with them when I'm still in love with someone else", you answer and Hannah sighs.

"Yeah, you have a point", she pouts, "but like, maybe messing around a little won't hurt? I mean, he's not in love with you or anything, you can talk with each other and see where things go"

Hannah's right and you know it. Even though it's still too soon, you should try meeting new people, you're not going to get over Han just by staying away from him.

This feelings, you have it with you for so long, it's hard to let it go. Loving Han is the only romantic feeling you have ever known, it's scary to walk off of this thing you know so well to something completely new.

You have to, though. It's the only way for your friendship to keep existing. So you nod to Hannah, taking your phone out of your pocket and dialing the number written on the cup, seconds later you're typing a message.

You: Hey, it's the girl in the yellow cardigan, my name is Y/N btw

You send and hear a ping, you thought he would have his phone on silent mode and sudden embarrassment creeps up when you see him taking his phone out of the pocket of his apron.

Cute guy: Hey, I was afraid of making you uncomfortable, so let me apologize first. I just didn't know how to approach you

Cute guy: Ah, and I'm Heeseung

You change the name in his contact before replying.

You: it didn't make me uncomfortable and thank you for calling me cute.

Heeseung: you don't have to thank me for telling the truth.

You giggle, it's interesting to feel like this, even though you can tell it's something temporary.

You: lol, you're really smooth.

"Let's go?", Hannah says, smirking at you and you blush. You nod, picking your things up and getting up from the table, you wave goodbye to Heeseung before going out and he smiles brightly at you.

>><<

The morning after you went away, Han woke up feeling awful, all the things that happened the previous night coming back at him at the same time. He was sure the moment you walked out of the door, giving him your best smile and trying not to cry was the saddest he ever felt in his entire life. You were his best friend, you were everything to him, he felt like shit because he never noticed your feelings. He doesn't know what he would have done if he knew, but maybe he could have been better, talking less about his relationships and especially not bringing his hook ups to the apartment.

He got up, feeling like crying everytime he had to pass by your bedroom door, knowing you were not there and wouldn't be for far too long, all because of him. The bell rings and he runs to the door, hoping it's you, hoping you'll tell him everything was a joke and that you didn't actually like him. Even though he knows you wouldn't press the doorbell since you know the password and he knows the hurt in your eyes when he said he didn't feel the same as you was no joke.

So it was no surprise when he opened the door and found Chan and Changbin there. They did tell him they were going to stop by in the morning to pick him up but with all the things that happened he just forgot about it.

"Are you okay? You look like shit", Changbin says entering the house.

Chan looks at Han, worried.

"Are you sick?", he asks, "where's Y/N?" He knows you wouldn't leave Han alone if he were sick, but you would have shown up already by hearing Changbin's loud voice.

"She's gone", Han says, running his hands through his hair.

"What do you mean?", Chan asks with wide eyes.

"She- she confessed to me and I turned her down", he says, maybe he should have told you he could like you back, that way he wouldn't be feeling this way and you'd still be there with him.

"Shit", Changbin says, his lips pressed in a thin line.

Han looks at the both of them, why don't they look surprised?

"You guys knew about it?" He asks, a little louder than his usual voice and the boys exchange a look. "Woah, thanks for the heads up"

He shouldn't be mad at them, it's not their fault, but he's already too mad at himself so he doesn't know where else to put the blame.

"It was not our place to tell you", Chan says.

"Does everyone know?", Han asks and Changbin nods, "so I was the only one? Am I dumb or something?"

Chan sighs, "it's not really your fault for not knowing, you probably are used to the way Y/N looks and talks to you because you're best friends since you were children, but to the people outside it is pretty clear from the get go that she likes you"

"But where did she go? Are you not friends anymore?", Changbin asks the difficult questions and Chan glares at him.

"She said she will be staying with Seungmin till he finds a roommate and then she's going to come back"

"She probably just needs some time", Chan says, putting a hand on Han's shoulder trying to reassure him, and he really hopes that's the case.

>><<

You've been texting Heeseung for a few days now and he's pretty nice, he's a dance major and works part time at the cafe to pay for living expenses the same as you do with tutoring.

Hannah had convinced you to go to Yunho's party and get wasted, saying you need the college life experience the most now that you had your first heartbreak but you don't want to think about that, you want to forget that you ever loved Han Jisung.

So you drink a whole bottle of wine before leaving for the party, Seungmin's coming with you and Hannah will meet you there. You are looking good, or maybe it's the alcohol that makes you feel good, your hair is down, you're wearing a black lace cropped top you borrowed from Hannah, with a much lower neckline than you are used to, high waisted jeans and black boots.

The party is already crowded when you and Seungmin get there and it's really a fancy place like Hannah told you.

"Let's grab a drink", you yell to Seungmin.

"You should drink water, you're already drunk", he demands and you show your tongue to him.

"Nooooo, don't be a killjoy"

He sighs, it's hard to convince you of something when you're sober, it's even harder when you're drunk.

"You can have a drink after you drink a cup of water", he tells you and you nod, sounds like a win win for you.

After drinking a whole cup of water you show it to him, waiting for a praise and Seungmin rolls his eyes. What are you, a 10 year old?

"Good job, now you can drink", he gives you a cup with something mixed in it, "but you have to drink some water for each drink you take, okay?"

"Okay, dad", you joke, sipping your drink.

Seungmin knows a lot of people at the party and you feel left out every time someone approaches him so you're really happy when Hannah shows up, with a much taller boy accompanying her.

"Look who I found", she says pointing at him.

"Heeseung?", you scream, startling Seungmin who's close to you.

"Jesus, Y/N, calm down", he says putting his hand over his ear, "I'm a singer, I can't lose my hearing", he says and you pout, whining an apology even though you know he's not really mad.

"I didn't know you were gonna be here", Heeseung gets closer to you, side eyeing Seungmin.

"I didn't want to come, Hannah made me", you tell him, "this is Seungmin, he's my friend"

He nods at the boy by your side, relaxing to hear you call Seungmin a friend.

"Hey, Minnie, let's go dance?", Hannah says and Seungmin narrows his eyes suspiciously.

"I don't dance", he answers, crossing his arms and she sighs.

"For fucking sake, just come with me", she says and Seungmin follows her without more questions, he knows too well not to mess with her when she gets angry.

"You look really pretty", Heeseung says, bending a little to lessen the difference in your height. You blush even though it's not as good hearing him saying that as it was when Han complimented you, but you're trying to get over that, aren't you?

"Thanks, you look hot too", you hiccup, you don't have a filter when you're drunk. He smiles, turning around on the table and pouring you a cup of water.

"Drink this, it's going to help", he hands it to you.

"Thank you, you're so sweet and handsome", you yell again but he doesn't flinch like Seungmin did.

"You can't keep saying these kinds of things and not want me to kiss you", he says and you smile, sly.

"Who says I don't want that?", the moment he comprehends what you just said his face reddens, and he thought he was being bold.

"Once you sober up we can talk about that", he tells you and you pout. You wanted to kiss him now, maybe if you did all the hurt you were feeling would go away. Maybe you just needed someone to make you forget about Jisung.

"But I want it now", you cross your arms, behaving like a child that didn't get their way.

"Do you like dancing?", he changes the subject. Your face brightens with his question.

"I LOVE dancing", you show him the choreography to queencard that's playing on the dance floor and he laughs at your messy steps, he's sure you're much better at it while sober.

"Then drink this and let's dance", he hands you another cup of water.

"Seungmin told me I could have a drink after a cup of water, but this makes two cups of water and no drink", you point out and Heeseung can't help but find the drunk you really cute.

"This water will help you so you won't have a bad hangover tomorrow", he says and you nod, that's a good point.

Super by seventeen starts playing and you finish downing the water, grabbing Heeseung's hand and dragging him to the dance floor.

Being a dance major, of course he knows the steps and he's so good there are moments you just stop and watch him in a daze. Actually, he knows the steps to every song playing after that too, you dance so much you're all sweaty and your legs are tired. You're totally sober now, feeling ecstatic. It's so good being at a party having so much fun.

You're jumping and smiling until you see him.

You stop in your tracks seeing Han Jisung staring at you from the other side of the dance floor, your smile fades away as soon as your eyes lock with his.

He looks sick, he lost a lot of weight considering the short period of time you haven't seen each other and he wasn't smiling like he always did. He takes a step in your direction and you automatically step away, your stomach sinking.

You're feeling your heart beat so fast it's overlapping with the loud music, you gulp feeling your legs weaken, why the hell are you having this reaction? He's the same Han Jisung you've known since you were a child, the only difference now is that he knows how you feel about him.

You can't avoid him until you get over your feelings, that won't work and you know it, you have to get used to being near him feeling nothing other than friendship, but you can't see him at that moment, you just can't. You're having fun, there's a handsome guy with you and you want to like him and not Jisung.

You grab Heeseung's hand and pull him away from the dance floor, walking outside so you can breathe some fresh air.

"Did something happen?", he asks, looking confused and worried.

"It just felt stiff in there for a moment", you say and he nods.

You didn't want to explain to him why you were not speaking to your best friend and how messed up your relationship with Han is right now. You want to forget about it and your way of doing it is right by your side, handsome and available.

"So, about that thing you said we could do once I sobered up… I'm sober now", you say and he blushes, analyzing you for a moment to see if you are telling the truth.

The last drink you took was more than an hour ago and you drank so much water after that, it's a miracle you still don't have to use the toilet.

"I don't want to do something you'll regret later", he says and you appreciate how considerate he is. But right now you don't want someone considerate, you want someone that'll sweep you off your feet and help you forget what you so desperately want to. So you get closer, caging him against the wall and tiptoeing, trying to get closer to his face.

"If you don't want to, it's okay. But if you're holding back because you think I'm drunk, I'm not", that was his cue to kiss you. His lips crashing sloppily onto yours, hands cupping your face then moving down to your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck trying to get closer than you already are. He's good, you've kissed enough people in your life to know that, yet you feel sick.

You feel bad and like a horrible person because you just know he can't compare to Jisung even though you never kissed your best friend.

You feel bad thinking about someone else while kissing Heeseung, he's so nice and sweet and you know he's not fooling around, if you give him the chance he's going to truly like you and you're only using him.

You step away sighing, seeing his brows furrowed and the confusion in his eyes.

"Was it that bad?", he jokes but you can see he's feeling hurt. "I'm not trying to brag, but I never got a reaction like that after a kiss"

You smile apologetically, looking for words to explain yourself.

"It was great and you're great", you begin, "I think you're too sweet, that's why I can't lead you on"

"What are you talking about?" he asks, even more confused.

"I'm in love with someone else and I know it sounds awful, I did try to get over him with you but I feel like you'll really like me if we don't stop right now and I'm not sure if I'll be able to be that person for you", you look at him, seeing the disappointment in his face. "I'm sorry, I'm a terrible person and you can hate me if you want"

He stares at you for a few moments, sighing and giving you a reassuring smile after.

"I don't think you're terrible, I think you're truly brave for coming clean like that", you're relieved, you were afraid he would say something mean and even though you feel like you deserve it, you're really fragile right now. "Thank you for telling me before I got too deep into this and I don't know, maybe we can be friends?"

"Absolutely, I would love that"

"So, do you want to go back inside?", he asks and you shake your head.

"I don't think so, I should probably go home", you say, you don't want to go back there to see Han again.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

"It's okay, I'm going to text Seungmin and see where he's at but you can go inside, I'm going to stay here and get some more fresh air"

"Alright, I'll see you at the cafe"

You nod, seeing him walk away. Woah, you just let that masterpiece of a man go because you can't forget about a fucking unrequited love. You curse yourself, slapping your forehead.

After that, you text Seungmin telling where you are and asking where the hell he and Hannah went, sending the same message to her and waiting for their answer.

You sit on the grass, taking a deep breath. You feel a bit sick after seeing Jisung, you never thought you'd feel that way. Never in your worst nightmares did you think you would be afraid to talk to him, maybe you're scared of talking to him and feeling nothing, what if all of this was just in your head and you just needed some time apart to figure it out?

You hear steps close to you and pray it's not some horny couple trying to fuck near you, however, the moment you lay eyes on your best friend you actually wish it was a horny couple.

You get up in a jump, your stomach sinking and your head spinning. Why does it hurt so much suddenly? It feels like your chest is being torn apart and you can't do a thing to make it better.

Jisung looks worse up close, he has huge bags under his eyes and he's too pale.

You're worried about him, even though you can't have the luxury of that. Not when your insides are all messed up and you want to throw up. You walk past him without saying a word, you can't handle this right now, but he grabs your wrist holding you in place. You don't look at him, staring at the floor trying to get out of his grip.

"I miss you", he says and your heart drops to your stomach. Why is he doing this to you? It's not like being apart from your best friend is fun to you. "Can't you look at me?", he pleads but you can't find the courage to do that yet. "Please", but he sounds so desperate, you force yourself to do it.

You look at him, he's obviously drunk. Who the hell let him drink this much?

"What is it?", you sound more spiteful than you were planning and his eyes widen, releasing your arm from his grasp.

"Do you hate me now?", he asks and you sigh.

"Of course I don't hate you, you're my best friend", you say that but for some reason it doesn't feel right, it doesn't sound like the truth.

"Can't you come back home? I feel like shit everytime I wake up and you're not there"

"I told you I need time", you say, running your hands through your hair.

"Are you going to forget about me by fucking some random dude?", he asks and you glare at him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"I don't understand how that's any of your business"

"It is, because you told me you love me but you act like you never want to see my face again", he scoffs.

You feel mad, what's he trying to say? Should you keep hurting just because you love him?

"I can't sit around forever, waiting for you to look at me", you say and he steps closer to you.

"I'm looking at you right now, I- I'll be good to you, I'll like you back", the moment he finishes saying that, you can't control the tears running through your eyes.

Is that supposed to be good? He would be forced to date you so he could have you close to him?

"Why are you doing this to me?" You ask and he takes a step back startled with you tears, suddenly sobering up, "it's not easy for me to be away from you, you're my best friend, but I do have some bit of dignity left in me and I won't accept less than I deserve, even if that less is the man I love with me", you wipe your tears seeing him step closer, trying to reach your hand and you step away, "don't come close to me right now, I could never stay with you knowing you don't love me, you should know that"

You turn around trying to get away from him but stop on your tracks seeing Hannah, Seungmin, Chan and Changbin right there looking at you awkwardly. Of course, the humiliation is the cherry on the top. You pass through them feeling so embarrassed you want the earth to swallow you.

The ride home is awkward and silent. Hannah and Seungmin keep exchanging looks while you look out the window trying to figure how your life became this mess.

You really should have dated Jeongho when he asked you out in middle school, it was around that time that you realized you liked Han more than just a friend—when Haneul asked to be his date to the school festival and you wanted to punch her so hard. Maybe if you had dated that boy at that time you would have forgotten the feelings you had for your friend, maybe you would have brushed it off as some childhood crush, but no, you rejected Jeongho while Han went with Haneul to the school festival and you third wheeled the whole event earning nasty glances from her every time your best friend played two times the same game so he could win you a plush too.

Back then you still thought everything would be okay, if only you had him everything would be okay.

You start bawling without notice, crying so much you can't even breathe. Seungmin stops the car and Hannah gets to the back, hugging you and caressing your hair while whispering that everything will be fine and you really want to believe her.

You don't know how you got into Seungmin's apartment, you guess he carried you inside after dropping Hannah home but you're not sure. It's sunday so he's not up yet for you to ask and it doesn't actually matter, what matters is the absolutely pathetic scene you made at the party and in the car. You want to bury yourself into a hole and never come back, how the hell are you going to face your friends after they saw you being humiliated by Han like that?

You know he was drunk, of course he was. You know he didn't mean it, he was hurt and drunk and people act on feelings not reason when they are like that. But does he think you have no pride? Does he really think you would date him knowing he doesn't like you back?

It's different when you confessed to him, you knew he didn't like you that way. But if he told you that there was something there, that he was not going to promise you anything but someday he may like you back, that's all you needed to hear. However, that didn't happen. He told you with all the words that he doesn't like that way, that he doesn't feel the same way as you do, there was no room for interpretation, no room for what if's.

You get up, in need to distract yourself. This week is going to fly by, you have tutoring lessons using up all your free time so you just have to get through the day.

There are a lot of messages on your phone, you really don't want to read them because you know that other than Hannah's, it's awkward comforting words from your other friends.

Hannah: call me when you wake up

Hannah: let's go eat something delicious, what do you think? It's on me.

Hannah: are you still not up or are you ignoring me?

You: I just woke up, calm down girl

You: why would I ignore you though? I just have to brush my teeth and eat something then I'll call you.

Binnie: morning babes

Binnie: Hannie is such an asshole

Binnie: I'll date you if you want, you're hot it's a win win for me

You chuckle to Changbin texts, he's so sweet in the weirdest way.

You: I mean, you're hot too

You: I think we'd make an awesome couple

Chan: good morning, Y/N

Chan: we didn't hear anything last night, so please, don't be awkward or embarrassed around us.

You: good morning Channie, I know you heard

You: you should have matched your story with Changbin before texting me though

You: it's okay, alright? Of course I'll be embarrassed for the time being, but we're friends I won't be embarrassed forever.

You leave your phone on the couch and go to the bathroom. You look like shit, smeared makeup, hair disgusting and you're still wearing the same clothes. You turn on the hot water, taking your clothes off and entering the shower, the warmth embracing you as you feel more relaxed.

You put on something comfortable, it's Sunday, you're going to ask Hannah to come by and you're going to order takeout.

You call her number while eating because you know she's anxious.

"Hey babes, good morning", she picks up, cheerful as always.

"Good morning", you say, biting the toast you just made.

"So, what about going out and eating something really good?", she asks.

"Hm, I'm actually not in the mood to go out? Can't you come by, we order something and watch that movie you've been bugging me for the last month?"

"Yeah, sure. We can do that", she answers and you are happy she doesn't sound upset or disappointed. With all the shit you're pulling lately you're scared your friends are going to get tired of your bullshit and stop talking to you. You used to think no one wanted a friend that's always crying and whining, but they showed you that real friends help each other.

"So what time are you gonna come?"

"I will just take a shower and wait for the bus, so in maybe like an hour?", she guesses and you nod forgetting she can't see you.

"Okay, see you then"

You decide to clean the house while waiting, Seungmin is pretty organized and clean so there's nothing too difficult. You'll just wash the dishes and vacuum a little.

Hannah arrives later than she predicted, Seungmin is already up and cleaning his room. He scolded you because it's his day to do the dishes and you shouldn't have done it because it's not fair to you.

You think he's being extra nice to you because of what happened the night before and it's true, he was really scared when you cried in his car.

He has known you for almost five years and he never saw you cry like that, even on the night you came to his house after confessing to Han you didn't cry like that. This time was different, you had a soul crushing cry, he wanted to stop the car and go to the back to hug you the same as Hannah, but he knew you were already being comforted by the perfect person.

Han is his friend, he could never choose between you two. But he couldn't deny it, that was a dick move, how could he ever say that to someone that likes him? He basically told you that he could pretend to like you if you stayed with him.

And of course, Seungmin understands the fear of losing a friend, but doing what he did just increases the chances of you never wanting to see his face again.

You are seated on the couch, watching the movie Hannah is obsessed with at the moment. She already watched it five times alone and asks anyone she can find to watch it again with her, she even repeats some sentences together with the characters.

The pizza you ordered is almost gone, you didn't know you were so hungry until the smell hit your nose. Luckily or thanks to Seungmin and Heeseung, your hangover is not that bad and you want it to stay that way so you keep drinking lots of water.

You got through the day thanks to your friends, they kept you entertained the whole time so you wouldn't overthink or even think about Han.

You are doing that just now, looking at the ceiling in the dark room. You want it all to be a dream, maybe you would wake up tomorrow and still be in middle school, you'd take the opportunity and get over him at that time, that would have spared you of some big problems.

----------------

A/N: So, I don't know how many parts this fic will have. If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback give me motivation to keep writing.

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bread-crum206 · 3 months ago

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A Game of Hearts

Chapter twenty-three: Beneath the Mask

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

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Series Masterlist

The evening was heavy with silence, the kind that fills a room like a storm waiting to break. You sat across from In-ho, your fingers absently tracing the rim of your glass, watching him as he worked through papers at his desk. There was a subtle tension in the air, one that neither of you had addressed but both could feel. It wasn’t the same distance as before—no, this time it was more like an unspoken wall between you. You could feel his eyes on you, every now and then, like he was trying to decipher something about you.

But even as he remained immersed in his work, there was an unsettling vulnerability to him, an unspoken weight hanging over his usually stoic expression. You knew he was lost in his thoughts. There were still cracks in his armor, though he tried so hard to keep them hidden. You couldn’t help but feel the urge to bridge the gap between you—to understand what he wasn’t saying, what he was keeping from you.

The hours had drifted by, the soft hum of the quiet night only broken by the sound of his pen tapping against paper. But you couldn’t ignore the knot in your stomach any longer. The connection between you, however fragile, needed to be addressed. You had no idea what this was—this pull you felt towards him, this subtle but undeniable thread of something more. But one thing was clear: you couldn’t keep pretending that things were fine when the tension between you both only deepened.

“In-ho,” you said, your voice breaking the stillness. It felt strange saying his name, but it also felt like the first step toward something more. You didn’t wait for him to acknowledge you before continuing. “I need to ask you something.”

His pen paused mid-tap, and he finally looked up, his gaze flicking to yours with a cool indifference, but there was a softness there now—something hidden beneath the hard mask. He didn’t speak, just gave you a subtle nod, waiting for you to continue.

“You’ve been pulling away,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “And I don’t understand why.” Your voice wavered, but you couldn’t stop yourself now. “What’s going on, In-ho? I feel like there’s more to you than what you’re letting on. You’re holding something back. And I… I need to know why.”

He leaned back in his chair, his gaze turning cold again, as though your question had triggered something within him. For a moment, he didn’t speak. His lips pressed into a thin line, and he folded his arms across his chest, his eyes now fixed on some distant point beyond you. The silence stretched between you both, thick and suffocating. You felt exposed in a way, unsure if you had crossed a line you weren’t meant to cross.

“You don’t want to know,” he finally said, his voice low, his tone flat. “Trust me.”

The words hit you harder than you expected, a chill running through you as the walls around him seemed to rise higher. But you weren’t going to back down. Not this time.

“I think I do want to know,” you said, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your chest. “I’m not asking to pry, but if we’re going to keep pretending like nothing is going on, then I don’t know how much longer I can stay here. I can feel it, In-ho. The distance between us.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you saw something flicker in his eyes—a flash of pain, fleeting but unmistakable. It was enough to make your heart race, even as he closed himself off again.

“Let it go,” he said, his voice sharp now, a command. “You’re better off not knowing. I told you before… this isn’t the life for you. The sooner you accept that, the easier it’ll be for you.”

But something inside you pushed back against that notion. You weren’t ready to let him shut you out—not when you could feel the depth of his emotions beneath that cold, calculated exterior. He was trying to protect you, but it wasn’t just that. You knew it. He was afraid. Afraid of losing someone else. Afraid of loving again.

“I’m not afraid of the truth, In-ho,” you said softly, standing up from your seat, closing the distance between you. Your gaze locked with his, and this time, you didn’t flinch. “You don’t have to protect me from it. I want to understand, even if it scares me.”

He looked at you then—really looked at you. His eyes searched your face as though trying to gauge whether you meant it, whether you were truly prepared for whatever he was about to say.

For a long moment, the tension hung heavy between you, the weight of his past pressing down on both of you. Then, In-ho stood up slowly, his movements careful, like a man preparing to reveal something dangerous.

“You think you want to know,” he began, his voice quieter now, as though he was telling himself more than you. “But the truth is… I lost everything once. My wife, my unborn child. I thought I had a future. A life. And then it was all ripped away in the span of a few months.” His voice cracked ever so slightly, but he quickly masked it, turning his back to you, walking toward the window. “It broke me. And now… now I don’t know how to love anyone anymore. Not like that. Not after everything.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the confession more vulnerable than you ever expected to hear from him. The realization that In-ho, the frontman, the powerful man who seemed to control everything, had been shattered by a loss so profound made your heart ache.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You wanted to reach out to him, but something told you he wasn’t ready to be held.

He shook his head, the darkness of the night outside reflected in the coldness of his eyes. “It’s not your problem,” he said, his voice laced with a quiet bitterness. “I can’t let anyone in again. You wouldn’t understand. You’re not part of this world. And I can’t—”

“You’re wrong,” you interrupted him softly, your voice trembling but determined. “I’m already here. I’m already a part of it. And I’m not leaving, In-ho. Not because of this.”

For a second, you thought he might say something more, but instead, he exhaled sharply and turned away from you, his jaw clenched tight.

“You should go,” he said, his voice thick with finality. “I have things to handle tonight.”

You didn’t say anything else. You simply nodded, heart heavy, as you turned to leave. But as you reached the door, you glanced back at him. There was something different in the way he stood—something that hadn’t been there before.

“I’ll be here when you’re ready,” you said quietly, then walked out, leaving the door slightly ajar behind you.

In-ho didn’t follow. He didn’t say anything more. But you knew, deep down, that something had shifted. Whether it was a step forward or a step back, you weren’t sure. But you could feel it—the quiet promise that things between you had just begun to unravel, for better or worse.

———————

Chapter twenty-three!! Wooow let’s goo! More progress?? As always lemme know what you think! Thank you! :)

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#in ho x reader #squid game #squid game x y/n #squid games x reader #x reader #arranged marriage #frontman x reader #marriage au #the front man #squid game x reader

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madamechrissy · 5 months ago

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Take Me Home Tonight

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Law Professor Satoru Gojo x Student Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Gojo is like 29 here, reader is like 22 or 23. Nothing too crazy. But is Professor/teacher forbidden type love. In this chap- oral sex (fem recieving), pussy slapping, rough sex, dirty talk.

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ this chap- 7k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ After passing your LSATs, your friends take you out to unwind. You never go out, so you are awkwardly agree, and you end up in the arms of a super hot man named Satoru. You end up screaming Satoru's name as he drops down on his knees before you, only to lose him in the club. All you have is his first name. Two months later, in your Criminal Law class, your heart stops. Your teacher? Professor Gojo. Or as you soon call him, Professor Dickhead. You can't fuck up your law school, and he won't fuck up his career, not just because he makes you wet in class, no, he's a dick. Right? That pout and blue eyes don't wreck you, right? - Lawyer AU

Chapter 14 ♡ ♡ Masterlist ♡ ♡ Playlist

Chapter 15- Final

Five years later

“Papa, Papa! I have a… um… ahjectin!” Comes your four year old daughter Noriko’s cute little voice, as you and Satoru are working at the office. Satoru comes to kneel in front of her, looking at her very seriously, she’s got on a little lawyer jacket that had been tailor made, white hair just like her dad.

“An objection! To me!?” Satoru demands, a hand on his chest, mouth open in a gasp, you watch with a grin, as your two year old daughter Faye sits on your lap, doodling all over a bunch of papers. She looks more like you, but she has Satoru’s swirling blue eyes all day.

“Ajectin! I get to stay up past eight with Aunt Maki, I will give you pwetty picture if I can!” Satoru looks at you now, those glittering blue eyes so full of mirth, and you suppress your own giggle behind your hand.

“A pretty picture, hmm you offer an interesting compromise. I don’t know, we have to ask Mama though.” Your daughter, Noriko smiles. Living up to her name at a young little age, she was as feisty as can be. You giggle again, earning her cute little glare.

“Sorry baby, okay, it better be a beautiful picture, I’ll tell Maki you can stay up an extra hour, but you better be good for her!”

“I will mama!”

“Then it’s a deal, little lawyer.” You say to her, she giggles and runs to you now, her little arms out, you pull her on your other leg with her sister Faye.

“I’ll make it so pretty Mama!” She smacks a little kiss on your cheek, and your heart is just so full it feels like it will burst, every little moment with your family is so beautiful.

“I’ll let you two draw then, I’ve gotta finish some work with dad, okay?” They nod and you scooch their seats up as high as they go, planting kisses on each of their cheeks, walking over to where Gojo is sitting on his desk, watching you all.

“You would have been such a shit defense attorney, glad you stuck with prosecution. You can’t even handle little Noriko?” He teases, you stick out your tongue, shoving at him playfully.

“She’s a beast, Toru, you know this.” He pulls you against him in a hug, arms around your waist, planting a little kiss on your forehead, making you sigh.

“I can’t wait for our date tonight.” He whispers in your ear, making you flush furiously now, you peek back and they’re still happily drawing, as you look back up at Gojo, seeing the lidded gaze he has.

Your hands clutch the lapels of his jacket as your shift, he would comment on it but he can’t around the girls, but his damn face speaks for himself, as you tiptoe and kiss his chin. “Hush!”

“Didn’t say anything.” He smirks, and you roll your eyes at him. “You can’t wait either, huh?”

“Can’t wait.” You whisper back, stealing a little kiss on those lips that always drive you to distraction, before you both get back to finishing up work for the day.

You both opened Gojo Family Law Firm two years ago, and it’s been insanely profitable. Maki and Yuta work for an elite law firm together, and Nanami and Suguru actually recently opened their own firm together with their good friend, Hiruguma. All of you are incredibly close, and tonight Maki is going to watch your girls, so you and Satoru can have a night out.

You are insanely excited, as you look over at your gorgeous husband, wearing that black pinstripe suit and leaned over his desk, the side profile of his face just absolutely perfect. You never, ever get tired of drinking in how beautiful he is, nor does he ever get tired of telling you how beautiful you are.

“Need a picture, Miss Brat?” He teases.

“Miss Brat my ass! I’m long past that.” You nudge him with your shoulder as you pour over paperwork, and then feel his eyes on you, one of his hands coming to sit on your lower back, leaning close.

“You’re always Miss Brat to me.” You shake your head and roll your eyes, kissing his cheek, looking back at your girls now.

“I feel like six years have flown by.”

“I know, time does go fast, as busy as we all are.”

“They’re getting so big already.” You feel choked up, and Satoru now leans to whisper in your ear.

“Want another one in you?” Your heart falters, you gasp and see his snowy lashes are lowered, his husky whisper making your pulse race.

“Satoru!”

“What? One more wouldn’t hurt.” You sigh, shaking your head.

“I think two is fine, I’m just getting my body back!”

“I love your body, always.” You eye his lips now, before you both clear your throats, scooching away as the kids have climbed out of their seats, pointing at you both and giggling.

“Mommy and Daddy smooch.” Noriko says, and Satoru grins now.

“No smooch!” Faye says.

“Smooch!” Satoru says, and you laugh at them, getting a little ‘mwah’ from him now.

“Yay!”

“Yuck!”

“Oh gosh let’s finish up for the day, so we can see Aunt Maki!” You say, and they are bouncing up and down, running around your big joint office now. You sigh, shaking your head. “I have three kids already.”

“I heard that, Missy!” Satoru says with a mock scowl, crossing his arms, but you just smirk right back at him.

“Let me look at that case.” You say softly, peering over now, Satoru had just grown more and more successful, the only case he ever did lose was Naoya on purpose, years ago, thankfully he has been in prison and isn’t leaving. Satoru also was able to exonerate the person he’d falsely put away.

This case he was on now was a very high profile murder case, a star athlete accused of murdering his wife, you and Satoru both have a nagging bad feeling about it, of course you don’t speak in front of the girls about it unless in murmurs. You jot down notes and point to them, he nods, his big hand on your waist as he leans forward, jotting his own down.

“Genius little brat.” He says against your ear.

“I learned from the best.” You say softly, smiling up at him.

“Mama, Papa, look! Ovewuled!” Noriko shouts, waving her cute little arms around and pointing to her sister.

“Overruled!? Why is she overruled?” Satoru demands, crossing his arms and looking so serious as he leans back in his big office chair.

“Because, Papa, she copied my drawing! In-ab-mis…”

“Inadmissible?” You finish, earning her nod, and then her little sister stomps her cute little foot, crossing her arms.

“Nuh- uh. Pwetty picture for Mama!” She says, holding it up now, you laugh softly, standing and bending low to take it.

“Is this Papa?” You ask, and she nods, grinning with her cute little teeth.

“Papa, Papa!” Faye shouts.

“It’s your favorite thing, Mama!” Noriko says.

You choke up then, gulping down emotions but failing, tears forming in your eyes as Satoru bends down, looking at the sketch of him, smiling so big. “This is such a good picture, baby! Why is it overruled, Noriko?” You ask.

“Because mine is better!”

“She gets the competitive streak from you.” You whisper, Satoru smirks now, holding the other picture out and grinning so big.

You have the three people you love most in the world right here with you, your two baby girls and your Toru, you’re not sure if anything could get better. You’re so full of love, especially as you watch the girls hugging each of Satoru’s legs, and he's walking them around as they cling to him, laughing. You put your hand on your chest for a moment, smiling at them.

“Papa, are you excited! Date with Mama!” Noriko says.

“Date Mama!” Faye says, and they point at you.

Satoru grins at you. “I’m very excited for a date with Mama.”

You really can’t wait for tonight.

You’re carrying Faye in one of your arms now, propped up on your hip, as Satoru is carrying in Noriko as you all walk into Maki and Yuta’s place. The girls get ridiculously excited, and Maki bends down holding her arms out, as they wiggle out of both of your hold, leaving you and Satoru laughing as you let them down. They run to her and jump in her arms.

“Maki, Maki!” They exclaim excitedly, Yuta comes out now and they run to him and hug his legs, he smiles and pats their heads affectionately.

“Hey girlies!” He says.

“Uta, Uta!”

“They like you better than us.” You say, pouting, and Maki wiggles her brows and grins deviously.

“I give them anything they want. Come here, I missed you.” Maki hugs you now, then Satoru, who pats her head affectionately, earning her glare.

“Did you miss me too!?” He asks.

“The tiniest bit.” She sticks her tongue out now, and the girls are bouncing around as you hand Maki their toys, tablets, everything basically. So many things Maki shoves them on the couch and shakes her head, taking in your outfit now. “You look so hot, whoo.”

“Thank you Maki.” You say with a blush, you’re dressed up in a slinky little black dress and heels, a pretty diamond necklace and bracelet Satoru bought you decorating your neck and wrists.

“You look so pretty.” Yuta agrees, hugging you then.

“Thank you! Ugh you two are the best for this, really.”

“We don’t mind at all. They’re our nieces you know.” Yuta turns to the girls then, bending down. “What movies are we watching?”

They start shouting then arguing, suddenly it’s like two baby lawyers, Maki snorts and shakes her head. “They’re just like both of you. Little monsters.”

“They’re angels.” Satoru says, as they continue arguing in lawyer form.

“Sure they are. You two, get out, go have fun.” Maki practically shoves you both out the door now, you stop.

“Let me say bye! Gimme kisses babies.” They come running up and you peck kisses all over their cheeks, until Satoru drags you away and Maki shoves you again.

“I said go on! We’re good.” She waves and shuts the door, leaving just you and Satoru, who looks your body up and down hungrily before picking you up, hauling you over his shoulder.

“Toru! Too high!”

“You look so good, I can’t have you getting snatched up.” He smacks your ass now, earning a squeak, before setting you down and sliding into the car, pulling you in with him as Ijichi revs up the engine.

“A date.” You whisper.

“A date. If we make it.” Satoru’s pressing you down, back against the leather seats, you gasp at it, hips shifting, thighs spread around his narrow hips. His hands come to rest on your hips, a little wider than they used to be, but Satoru couldn’t care less, in fact he loves your body more after babies. “This body…”

“Your body.” You whisper back, kissing him over and over, not the sweet kisses you normally share, this is desperate and hungry, this is the first date you’ve had in months since you all have been so busy. You’re both dying for each other, your gasp is loud when his cock brushes you under his slacks, pressing between your thighs. “Ngh…”

“Those moans, I wanna hear them so fucking loud tonight.” He whispers, you giggle then, hips arching up for more, watching his pretty blue eyes dilate, tasting his sweet breath against your lips as your hands slide up his strong chest under his suit jacket, over that crisp white dress shirt.

“I wanna be loud so bad.” Your words undo him, he’s already pressing harder, earning your little whimper, as his lips find purchase against the base of your throat and he’s sucking there. Your hands grip his shoulders tightly, feeling every tension as his hands glide down your thighs.

“Acting like some prim, proper soccer mom when you’re slutty.” He murmurs against your ear, only making you wetter.

“Slutty hmm? That’s you. Soccer dad.”

“Me!? You. Brat.” You giggle, before gasping, and he’s grinding more and more, your slinky dress up your hips as he’s grabbing one of your breasts in his hand now, squishing it over the silky fabric.

“Mnh…” You can’t think of a proper word, Satoru Gojo’s hands, lips and body collide with yours, you’ve never been able to get enough of him, and you never will get enough.

“Can’t wait.” He says then, and you laugh, breathy, pausing him.

“Satoru I’ll be dripping cum all night on the date!”

“Keep it in then.” He says.

“Gravity, Toru.” You retort. He rolls his eyes.

“Hmph, brat.” You’re both laughing now, he’s easing up just a bit, sighing as he looks down at you so lovingly, caressing your cheek with the backs of his fingers so delicately.

“So beautiful.” Satoru murmurs, looking at your pretty face, you light up as he says so, biting your lip and flushing, lashes lowering over your glittering eyes. And god you’re so beautiful, he will never stop saying it, because you should know.

“Thank you, I feel beautiful tonight.” You say, and he scoffs.

“Every night. Beautiful brat.” You’re wriggling under him, soft body so small under his long, lanky one, your soft breasts rising and falling, nipples perked up right against your thin dress.

“I won’t be able to wait if you keep looking at me like that.” You trail your fingers down his jaw now, studying him intensely, your breaths mingling in the car. God Satrou can’t wait to hear you scream his name.

You all still had plenty of sex, but it was different now as parents, it was sneaking in the laundry room and him fucking you over the dryer real quick and fast, a hand clamped to your mouth. It was quiet nights in the bedroom, sometimes interrupted by little knocks on your door when one of the girls had a bad dream, only to be shoved apart by two little girls.

You’d both end up on opposite sides of the bed, laughing and looking at each other, holding hands over them between you and falling asleep.

Satoru would have it no other way though, he loves his daughters so much, and he loves you so much, especially how amazing you are as a mother. He’s so proud of who you’ve become and who you are, a loving wife, an amazing mom, and a badass little attorney. You also still look just as good in those little pencil skirts as you always did, bossing him around.

“What is it, Toru? So quiet.” You say now, shaking him out of his thoughts. Satoru leans down lower, lips hovering over yours.

“Thinking how proud I am of you.”

“Satoru…” You’re blinking tears now, he laughs softly as one escapes your eye, dripping down to your temple.

“Crybaby.”

“Hush. That means a lot to me, thank you. I am proud of you.” His heart falters, at your words, at your touch, at your eyes reflecting all the love and desire he has for you.

“Of course you are, I’m the best.” He winks and earns your laugh, before slamming his lips down back on yours. “I love you, wife.”

“I love you, husband.” You kiss and kiss and kiss until the car stops, and Satoru sits you up, fixing your hair thoughtfully, as you adjust his tie and collar. “We’re still like two teenagers.”

“I know, you’re almost thirty.”

“You are in your thirties!”

“I’m a Zaddy you know.”

“Oh Jesus.” You smack your head and burst into laughter at him, as Ijichi comes to open your door now.

“Don’t laugh, you’ll be screaming it later.”

“I’m so sorry Ijichi.” You say then, putting a hand on his shoulder, he sighs, shaking his head.

“I get paid enough to ignore most of this.” Ijichi kisses your hand then, and ignores Satoru, earning his glare.

“I don’t get such sweet things!”

“You don’t pay me enough to kiss your hand Mr. Gojo.” Ijichi leaves then, and Satoru scoffs, rolling his blue eyes.

“He likes you better.” He says with a pout, you’re laughing softly, Satoru drags you in the building then, until you all are seated at a beautiful rooftop restaurant next to each other.

The lights are glimmering from the rooftop, lit up city lights decorating the distance along with a million glittering stars. Satoru’s hand is on your thigh as he leans close, forking a bite of yummy cake into your mouth after dinner, you’ve not laughed so much in a while, the both of you genuinely enjoying every moment. Now his hand on your thigh has you…

“You’re wet this easy, huh?” Satoru teases in your ear, you gasp, smacking on his hand now, glaring.

“What!?”

“Mmm, the heat emanating says you are.” He leans back to look at you, while the waitresses are bringing you both more drinks.

“You’re such a conceited, arrogant ass.”

He glares back now. “And you’re a slutty little brat.”

“Am I now?” Your hand finds him under the tablecloth, making him jerk, and you grin. “Taste of your medicine. Hmm, you’re hard already?”

“I’m gonna fuck this attitude out of you all night.” He says now, tilting your chin up, all while the waiters are pouring your wine, not hearing your whispers against the wind thankfully. “You think I will take it easy?”

“I hope you don’t.” You’re blushing as he’s grinning down at you, hand on your thigh pressing firmer, sliding up just so.

“Just wait till we get home, you know we have all night.”

“I know, fuck. I’ll check on them?” You take your phone and text Maki, Satoru pouts. “What!”

“Pay attention to me brat.”

“I am, I just… okay Maki said they’re fine and to just get laid.” You say with a huff, then you both laugh, sipping on your wine now.

“I’ve always loved your friends. Fuck how’d I get so lucky to have you?” He’s cupping your face so carefully, you feel emotions catch in your throat.

“I’m the lucky one, Satoru Gojo.” You brush his hair back gently. “Best father in the damn world, best husband. Best lawyer, best friend, best teacher. You’re everything, you know that?”

“Brat, don’t make me cry.” His lip trembles just so, and your foreheads rest together for a moment. “You’re the best mother, best wife, best everything.”

“You think so, Toru?”

“I know so. You make me so proud every day.” You both choke up then, in your own little world as waiters walk by, as people laugh and eat, but it’s just the two of you, with your love overwhelming your hearts in every way.

“I need you.” You say softly, then Satoru’s raising his hand.

“Check please.”

“Need these clothes off, now.” You whisper as you both stumble into your home soon after, yanking on his tie, unbuttoning his dress shirt with shaky hands, Satoru is turning you then, unzipping your dress.

“Beautiful fucking body.” He says softly, as the dress falls to a silky pool down your ankles.

You feel so beautiful with him.

You feel everything with him, every damn day.

It’s always like the day you met, that eagerness, the need, it never dims does it? Satoru always has you like this, a fucking mess as he’s stripping you completely, turning you to him and holding your face with his huge hands, kissing you deeply over and over. You melt against him, he’s picking you up, thighs wrapped around his narrow hips, as he carries you to the bed you share.

He’s laying you down on it, now just in his boxers, leaving you to study every muscle and line on his perfect body, but he’s soon spreading your thighs, kissing down your breasts, filling you with such intense need you can’t think. He’s sucking your nipples, you’re grinding your hips, pulling him in, gasping at the pleasure you feel while he’s slipping lower and lower.

“Love you, love you.” You whisper, he moans, kissing your tummy gently.

“I love you, fuck I love you. Every bit.” He’s kissing lower and lower now, you’re able to be as loud as you want, and fuck you are loud, head falling back, the dim lights of the room fading to darkness when his breath is on your cunt.

“T-Toru!” Your voice is hoarse as you’re screaming out, Satoru’s latching on to your swollen little clit now, sucking it in his mouth and humming as he watches you under those long white lashes. You’re gushing all over his pretty face, unable to even breathe, the pleasure is so - “So good fuck!”

“Mmm.” Is all you get in response, Satoru’s humming once more until your orgasm hits ridiculous, pussy clenching around nothing, covering his face in your slick as he takes a breath finally.

Your hands entangle in his silky hair, thighs shaking on either side of his head, he presses his fingers into the plush of one, as the other uses two fingers to sink into your little hole. You moan out at how good the stretch is, his tongue slipping up your slit to start drinking up every bit of arousal you have. He’s pumping his fingers up and down, right on that spot, making you damn near delirious.

“S’yummy.” He says, before starting to focus on licking your clit, while using his fingers, so much stimulation you almost wanna pull his head off, but you simultaneously want to drag his mouth closer. Your hands just clutch in his hair instead, as he’s pushing you into another orgasm, you feel everything tensing, about to explode.

“Toru!” You whine out, feeling his damn smirk against your pussy lips as he flicks one more time.

“You love it, don’t you miss brat?” He whispers, and your breath catches in your throat because you’re not sure if you can even speak, his fingers curling up in your soppy entrance. “You love when I eat your slutty pussy out, hmm?” He asks, voice dark and smug, and oh fuck it’s so hot, especially being called that.

You all never talked that way much any more, especially as parents, and the word fucking thrills you. You can’t help the whine that leaves you, nor the wetness that’s dripping down his fingers, loud in the room, you hear it. He’s grinning up at you, those white sharp fucking teeth glinting. Self satisfied, arrogant little shit, that you love more than anything, wrecking your mind.

“I love it, Satoru, I love it so much, it’s too much, I can’t, oh my god, it’s too much, I’m gonna - “ You’re cut off by another orgasm, your body writhing as he takes his mouth away to watch your pussy pulse and spasm hungrily. He’s grinning wider, his fingers still moving as your insides clench around them.

“But I’m not done yet, baby girl, you can take more, can’t you?” He says, and then he’s back at it, tongue flat against your clit, moving in a way that feels so fucking good, in tantalizing circles, and you can feel yourself getting wetter, your walls tightening around his digits. “Can you take three in you, baby?”

“Three…” You haven’t in ages, Satoru has been so easy with you lately, always knowing if he fucked you too good you’d scream out loud. You gasp when he’s shoved another long finger in your pussy, hoarse cry escaping your lips, head slamming back against the pillow. “Mnh!”

“So pretty stretching out f’me, you’re such a good girl.” You’re sobbing damn near as he continues, relentless on devouring your cunt, now kissing your tummy, the little stretch marks from the kids, spreading his hands across the expanse of your waist. “Fuck you’re pretty.”

“Fuck! Satoru, fuck me, please.” You beg now, you’re so full, so fucking full of his hand, craving his cock as he’s pressing it into the matress, pre cum leaking against his boxers, he’s throbbing just devouring you, his pretty wife.

You look down, watching as he licks you, eyes glazed with lust, and your heart stutters at how pretty he is between your thighs, even as your addled mind is sending you off the deep end.

“Pretty.” You whisper, his brilliant blue eyes glinting, pupils shrunk to pinpoints, he leans up, sliding his third finger out now, working you with two.

“Pretty?” He teases, his chin glistening with your arousal, you swipe at it gently, brushing a thumb over his pouty lip.

“You’re pretty.”

“You’re pretty. Especially this pussy, fuck.” Satoru’s buried his face back against you, pussy drunk on your taste, your smell, your everything.

“Fuck me! Please, no more… dick.”

He’s laughing against you, breaths making you jump, his fingers spreading the puffy lips of your sex wide so he can admire how pretty you are there. “Not yet, I’m having fun down here, drinking up my wife.”

Fuck even after years, being called his wife just does something.

“Want your cock so bad please, please.” You’re giving him those eyes, the ones he always melts for, but he’s having too much fun clearly, now pressing your thighs up high, smushing them against your body, tongue sliding inside your velvety walls now, long and curling up just so, making you spasm, literally twitching as you cry out. “Please!”

“Taste so fucking good.” Satoru smacks your pussy now, making you jolt, eyes rolling back in your head at how good it feels, the sting of his hit. He laughs now, spitting on your already stupidly wet pussy, watching it drip down and groaning. “So fuckin wet, aren’t you?”

“For you.” You whisper, he shuts his eyes in pleasure at those words, you’re trying to yank him up, but he’s just fucking you with his fingers again, scissoring them in and our of your now sloppy cunt, you’re wriggling every which way, it’s too much, all too much.

“Cum again Miss Brat.”

Miss Brat.

Fuck remember years and years ago, you both could not even be together, it was a mess, but you couldn’t stay away, either of you. Your Professor Dickhead is just that, a fiend between your thighs, enjoying every bit of you falling apart, long tongue flicking so fast on your clit it’s ridiculous. Your breasts are heaving, he grips one with his free hand, tweaking a nipple, edging you further.

“I’m gonna cum again, I’m gonna cum again - “ The words are barely out of your mouth when your orgasm crashes into you, your back arching off the bed, your hands pulling on his hair until you think you might rip it out. He’s not letting up, not even a little, and you feel like you’re going to pass out from pleasure.

As you start to come down, Satoru’s movements finally slow, his eyes never leaving yours, and he pulls his fingers out, bringing them up to his mouth to suck them clean. “You taste so good, like heaven, baby.” He says, voice low and sweet, making you feel like you melt, you’re half dazed as he crawls up your body, kissing up your stomach, your chest, until his face is hovering above yours.

You cup his face gently, tears of overstimulation falling down your cheeks. “I need you inside me, please.”

“Yeah baby, do you? So bad you’re crying?” He teases, you just reach down, shoving his boxers over his firm ass, gripping it and arching up, rubbing your slick cunt on his cock, making him gasp.

“Off, all the way off.” You demand with a glare, and he’s eagerly complying, laying back on top of you, cock springing and smacking against your thigh. You eagerly grip it in your soft hand, stroking him up and down, watching his eyes roll back before he kisses you.

You taste yourself on his lips, his tongue dripping with saliva as it slides into your mouth, yours swirls with his, your hands slipping up and down his cock now, feeling it hot and twitching under your touch. You’re touching the tip, leaking so much precum, pulling back to slide it against your tongue, earning his feral growl, his brows low over his eyes now.

“Fuck you know what you’re doing to me. Brat.” He huffs, and you giggle, until he’s shoved his cock all the way inside your tight entrance, you’re screaming out at how good it feels, as he moans, eyes rolling back in his skull. “Oh my god so fuckin tight. How!? Brat and your evil tight pussy.”

You’d laugh but he’s fucking into you insane now, thrusting so deep, shoving your thighs up into a mating press, tip abusing your poor cervix. You’re shattering under him. His gorgeous face blurring in and out of your vision as your gaze swims, Satoru’s nose brushes yours as he studies you so intensely, hands shoving your thighs even further, even wider.

You struggle to take all of him, especially this deep, it’s been so long since he’s fucked you like this, like he’s lost his goddamn mind, making you a mess under him as his hips roll, grinding just so. You have a network of goosebumps everywhere he touches, everywhere his fingers brush, everywhere his lips press. Your cheek, your throat, your face.

Then he’s leaning back, kissing your ankle, your calf, fucking into you slower, but so hard the bed is creaking with every movement, the headboard smacking the wall with the force. He’s moaning, nipping your leg with his teeth when he’s slinging it over his shoulder, hands pinning you to the bed.

“L-love… your… cock, fuck.” You manage, he smirks, rolling his hips again, raising a brow.

“You do love it, don’t you? So slutty. You always wanted your Professor so bad inside you?” You’re gasping now, growing embarrassingly wet, and he notices, chuckling and leaning down, stretching you further.

“Never…. Used… a yardstick… fuck…” You’re laughing until he pulls out now. “No, back in!”

“Turn around, I think you need a lesson.” Satoru bends you over, your ass is in the air, he’s pressing your head into the mattress, lining his cock back up with your slick entrance now.

“Please, teach me. Ah!” Satoru’s shoved back in your cunt now, slamming hard, his pelvis smacking your ass, making it jiggle with each thrust as he smacks your ass cheeks over and over. The pain and pleasure are so blinding, you’re clinging to the sheets under you, crying out at how good it feels, him destroying you.

“Look at you, so pathetic, hmm?”

“Ah!”

“You’re mine. All mine. Mine.” Satoru’s whispering it like a mantra over and over, gripping your hips, thumbs pressing into the dimples of your back, sweat dripping down to your spine, he bends low to lap it up with his tongue.

“Y-yours.” Your voice is a breathy whisper, Satoru’s losing it, and you love when he does, love every filthy word pouring out of his pretty lips while he’s steadily pounding your cunt, fucking so deep you feel him everywhere. “Ngh!”

“That’s it, cum all over my cock, baby. Slutty little brat.”

“F-fuck! Toru!” Your head falls back, hair cascading messy down your back, urging Satoru to pull it, shoving his cock so deep, you’re trembling as your cunt gushes sticky arousal all over his veiny cock, earning his groan. Satoru’s bent over you, pulling your hair, kissing you so deeply, your tongues messy and dripping as you sob into his lips with pleasure.

“That’s it, milking my cock, huh?” He whispers now, pulling you up so you’re balancing on your shaky hands and knees.

“Fuck I missed this.” You whisper back, he moans, nodding, burying his head against your neck.

“You miss screaming like a perfect slut?”

“Yes, fuck yes.”

“Want all this cum in your cunt, huh?”

“Please, please, please.”

“So desperate, so needy.” Satoru’s fucking you harder now, grunting as he feels your walls fluttering around his cock, his balls slapping your overstimulated clit while he fucks you so hard from behind. He’s gripping your hair harder, his hand wrapping your throat now, shoving two fingers deep in your mouth, you suck them eagerly. “Cry for me, pretty. I love how good those tears look.”

“Mnh.” Is all you manage, while Satoru takes you over, fucking you so deep, his fingers shoved into your mouth, so deep your nearly choke, you’re slobbering all over them, spit drooling as your cunt drools on his cock, making him gasp and slow.

“Feel too good, too perfect.” His voice is softer, fingers still in your mouth, other hand wrapping your neck and squeezing, hugging you completely to his hard, lithe body while he’s pounding your pussy. You’re close again, and this time so intense you’re floating, no longer even here. “Perfect cocksleeve for me, huh?”

You nod as he pulls his fingers out, pressing you down into the mattress, his cock kissing your cervix again and again, hand around your throat squeezing as insane blue eyes look into yours. You try to focus, to cling to the blankets as if they’ll tether you, as he’s filling you so full, your tummy pressed into the mattress, cock wrecking anything you have left.

“Satoru! L-love…. You….” You hear his groan, he’s biting your earlobe, squeezing your throat harder, making it go fuzzy, blissful.

“Fucking love you, so much, so much… everything in me… loves you…” You’re crying now, at the love in your heart, at the sensations of your husband wrecking your cunt, wrecking your mind, your soul.

“S’all yours. All of me, all of it. Yours, yours, yours.” You squeak out the words, his hand lifts from your throat, turning your face to him, blue eyes devouring yours, studying your everything, hips rolling so his cock is slamming your spot, and your own eyes flutter in and out of focus, you’re clinging to his forearm, cunt dripping.

“I’m yours, baby girl. Always, always, always.” He’s exhaling now, kissing you again, cupping your jaw so possessive, while he’s taking you over. “Cum with me, let me feel that perfect pussy milk me.”

“Please, cum in me.” You’re gasping when he’s fucking you so deep, burying his cock inside your pussy, over and over, until you feel him throbbing, and his hot white cum pouring into you.

You cum just from that, from the hot sticky white ropes filling your pussy so good, you’re so full of him, as he pumps his hot load into your eager cunt. His whimper in your ear sets you off further, you’re shaking under him as he’s breathing heavily, his cries now being drunk by your mouth. Your cunt is spasming around his cock, milking him for every bit of cum he has, Satoru’s trembling now against you.

You both lay there, kissing, rocking back and forth, he’s gently pumping more and more of his cum inside you, but you’re already pushing so much out, with the force of how much he’s made you cum. You’ve created a slick mess down the blankets, down the bed, gasping and shaking when his teeth bites your neck hard, his hand gripping your hair and pressing into your scalp.

“Oh my god, I fucking love you.” He whispers. You giggle, breathless, looking back at him with swollen lips and mascara trails on your cheeks.

“I love you, fuck… we needed this.” You tease, grinning, he relaxes his hold, laughing now too, so handsome he breaks your heart every time.

“We needed this so bad.” He eases out, exhaling, watching as your fluids and his mix, dripping down the bed. “Oh my god… so sexy.”

“Satoru!” He’s shoved your ass in the air, burying his face against your pussy, lapping his cum out of it. “Satoru!”

“More.” Is all he says, you look back at him, shaking, and your cunt is throbbing all over as you study his pretty face.

“More.” You whisper back, and now your husband is lavishing your oversensitive cunt with his stupidly talented tongue, moaning against you, whispering how much he loves your pussy, you’d almost get jealous but soon you’re sucking his cock, sucking your cum off it.

He’s moaning and whimpering while you do, while you have his rock hard again, drinking his precum up and coating your tongue with him. And when you’re riding his cock with your sore cunt, and he’s gripping your breasts, and your hair is falling to the side of you both, covering you from the world, you know you could go again, again and again.

“So fucking good, baby girl. Taking me so well.” Satoru murmurs, hands on your ass, urging you to ride him more and more.

You’re weak, a mess, sweaty, both of you. But you’re urged on by the desire, the need to be so close to each other, to lose yourselves, and as you’re riding his cock so good, and he’s sucking on your nipples, moaning with his perfect lips, you can’t get enough. Neither of you can get enough, over and over, all goddamn night, until you’re both sore, exhausted, messes.

He’s ready for more, kissing you, still buried inside your pussy and hardening in you, caressing your face, lashes low. “Want another baby?” He whispers, smirking now, and you sigh.

“No!”

“One more?” He pleads, pressing deeper inside your pussy.

“No…” He’s grinning, fucking into your sore cunt, it hurts to take him but you crave it, you need it, need him.

“I’m putting another baby in you, brat.” He whispers against your lips, and your cunt is drooling down his cock, as you’re stretched and fucked beyond your means, he’s not stopping, and you don’t want him to.

You cup his face, eyes flickering down to his body, his abs flexing as he fucks into you. “One more.”

The Next Day

“Oh my god.” Your kids are running circles as you pull up your next case, looking at Satoru with a big grin.

“What is it, Miss Brat?” He asks, tapping his pen on his desk, flipping his page, blue eyes locking on yours.

“My next case… it’s apparently prosecuting Mr. Banks.”

Satoru pauses, then scowls, standing up, leaning forward with his hands on his desk now. “Excuse me!?”

“Sure is. Hmm, maybe I’ll take it. See if I can make the infamous Satoru Gojo lose a case.” You stand too now, leaning over your desk, lips turning up as his do now too.

“Oh yeah, you're challenging me? Psh. Rookie.” You cross your arms now, looking at the girls.

“Who would win, me or Daddy?”

“Mama!” Faye shouts.

“Papa!” Noriko argues now.

You walk to Satoru Gojo then, your husband, the father of your children, your best damn friend in the world. And he’s walking to you, meeting you in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets as he leans down. He brushes your hair behind your ear, smirks down at you, leaning to whisper against your lips, letting you taste his cool breath, inhaling his scent.

“Think you can beat me in any case, Miss Brat?” He asks, sarcastic tone dripping, conceited as fuck and tempting you to know end.

You lean against his lips, as your kids are giggling. “I sure do think I can. In fact, I’ll win.”

But you’ve already won, haven’t you? You have Satoru Gojo, now and always, and now his beautiful family. Who cares if he probably will stomp your ass in a case?

“I already won.” He says, mirroring your thoughts, you kiss him gently, pulling back and then raising a brow.

“So… challenge on, Professor?” You tease.

Satoru grins. “Challenge on, Miss Brat.”

The End

A/N: I am so emotional, I've been writing this one since June and I truly love Professor Dickhead and Miss Brat SO much. They have a huge chunk of my heart. I hope you all enjoyed their end, it seems as if Gojo Family Law firm will be having even more added to it aha. Love you all and see you in the others!!

Taglist: @jjknanamin @chiyokoemilia @marie-is-in-the-dark @seeing-stars-alt @maskedpacific @aldebrana @toffeebrat @antisocialinlw @trishiepo0 @jkslaugh97 @makingtimemine @inthedarkshadows000 @mima0127

Kofi link if you wanna support 💗

#gojo x reader #jjk smut #gojo smut #satoru x reader #lawyer gojo #jjk x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #take me home tonight

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vigilante24ish · 6 months ago

Text

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1553

Chapter 23:

With little time to spare, everyone rushed to find thick branches or tree roots they could somehow detach.

Then, they proceeded to wrap it with cords, leaves, or vines; each adding their little own touch to them. At the same time, Lilia was commenting on how she hated the brooms and flying due to how often media associated with witches.

The only one not participating was you, who simply kept guard; ready to blast magic at anything that moved.

When everyone had done the couple ritual, where two witches enchanted and exchanged brooms; only then did they notice you with no broom in hand.

"Wait, Y/N doesn't have a broom," Alice pointed out, earning the coven's attention.

"Can't we make her one?" Teen asked, surprised by the fact that you had remained quiet and broomless.

"Only if we were am even number. We can't give her one of our own brooms, " Jen explained.

You waved your hand dissimively to ease the worries of your coven. "I don't need it either way. I can use my magic to fly, " you explained, earning different expressions from them.

Teen smiled in excitement. "Wait, you can fly with magic?"

Jen scoffed. "Of course you can,"

Alice seemed interested. "If it is a spell that allows you, we should be fine,"

Surprisingly, neither Agatha nor Rio seemed to agree with the idea.

"Absolutely not," Agatha argued. "We need to stick together, and she can't match a broom's speed."

Rio nodded faintly. "Better her riding with someone. She can join me. "

"Safest option is with me." Agatha disagreed, arguing with Rio while you stood not so far away; having no saying even though the topic was about you.

Before anyone else could comment or extend the argument, one of the Salem Seven appeared almost out of thin air; close to Alice and Teen.

The protection witch, though, acted fast and used the broom to smack and attack the corrupted witch; sending them on the ground.

Just then, Lilia took notice of something by the end of her peripheral vision.

"Agatha!" She exclaimed as another Salem Seven witch had appeared and now too close to its original target.

This time, you were faster to react.

Sliding on the muddy ground, you managed to cover the distance between your lover and you. As you pushed your legs to stand up, you extended your left hand and wrapped it around Agatha's waist; pulling her closer to your body that was positioned sideways but also further away from the enemy.

At the same time, white magic had gathered in your right hand, and you extended it forward; placing it on the chest of the cursed witch.

Your magic worked like a powerhouse, causing pain to the mind hired witch while also sending them flying back; quite a distance.

The force and momentum of the attack had even caused a weak wind current that moved some of your strands back while you stood there, holding Agatha by the waist.

Agatha had not expected the blind attack from her sworn enemy, so to speak, and neither your interference. Yet here she was, both hands grasping your upper arm as the sudden pull had her losing her balance; resulting in her slightly leaning back.

She stared at your profile for a moment longer, surprised by your attack but also the position you two were in; momentarily forgetting the grave danger that was approaching.

"How did you do that?" Alice questioned, the first to break the odd silence and also ruin your little mood.

You helped Agatha stand properly and did not fail to glance at Rio first, taking notice of the face she pulled. It was her silent way of saying 'not bad' along with the lines 'I am impressed'.

"I find hurling and throwing your magic from afar rather risky and also makes it easier for the enemy to dodge or block" you explained as you turned to face her, your hand still wrapped around Agatha's waist and her hands still holding your upper arm for dear life. "Instead, unleashing your magic in close quarters has a higher chance of success, and the impact is more powerful."

Teen looked at you as if seeing their idol live on stage, his dark eyes glowing with interest. "Wow," he exclaimed, unable to find where to start his questions.

Jen cleared her throat, having enough of the unnecessary talk. Mind hived witches were after them, and she would love to get as far as possible from the danger.

"Think we can finish this later," she commented. "We need to go,"

"We still haven't decided who will fly with Y/N.

"She can fly with me," Teen said, lifting his hand halfway as he spoke. "I have never used a broom before... I mean an enchanted broom cause I have used normal brooms at home -"

"Enough, kid," Agatha said, lifting her hand to silence him. "Let us go. She flies with you. "

Rio looked at Agatha, clearly not fulling agreeing but said nothing. Instead, she watched you walk towards the teenager, the two of you exchanging a smile.

"Let's do this," you told him as you both held the broom in your hands.

Wasting no more time, you all started to run towards one direction. One by one, everyone jumped on the brooms and mounted them; quickly gaining height.

"Wait! How do I-"

You interrupted the Teen. "On my mark, mount the broom," you instructed, and as Lilia took flight, your chance arrived. "Now!"

Without hesitation, he jumped and mounted the broom. His hands held it for dear life just as you managed to mount the broom right behind him.

"Wow!" He exclaimed as the broom slowly started going up while also gaining more and more speed.

At the same time, you could hear Lilia laughing from joy and Alice having the time of her life, both exprtely navigating the broom.

The ones having he easiest time were Agatha and Rio, who have also taken the lead and had the most experience flying on brooms.

It was hard, at first, with the low branches, and the boy had stated to worry; feeling the loops and sudden moves would throw him off, even if your hands were around his waist.

"Oh, God!" Teen exclaimed.

Lilia was amused. "Try praying to the Divine Mother, kid," he advised the future witch.

Just then, an opening was presented, and one by one, the coven flew up; heading for the night sky.

Teen hesitated, seeing the claw like branches and the fact that he had to fly almost straight up; his mind reminding him of what gravity would do if he tried.

"Please, divine mother," he prayed and dared to closs his eyes as he tried to guide the broom up.

He felt a cold ethereal touch on top of his hands and then the sudden feeling of your stomach dropping while the pressure and change of air hit you all in once.

Thankfully for him, the up way was short and before he knew it; the broom was vertical again, and he could feel the cold night air against his cheek and curly hair.

Opening his eyes, he was left in awe at the beautiful sight of the Red full moon right next to everyone.

He looked down, noticing how small the trees looked, how normal the road seemed, and how fast you were going.

It was then he saw an extra pair of hands placed on top of his, remembering this ethereal feeling of magic he felt when he prayed to the Divine Mother for the first time. He turned to look above his shoulder, seeing you leaning against his back and having a smirk on your face.

"You're welcome, kiddo," you told him, making him smile faintly as a thank you. "Eyes forward and don't you dare close them again"

He nodded. "Yes ma'am"

As the coven flew in formation, Agatha took a moment to breathe the cold air and be reminded of the sense of freedom she had been denied for so long. Broom flying was always so freeing, offering a sensation few things could truly match.

But then she dared to look at her right and saw Rio, in all her supernatural glory, riding that broom; her face screaming confidence and raw power as the wind blew back her hair.

Conflicted and defeated, Agath tried to look at her left and take some comfort in the blood red moon when she noticed you and Teen gaining speed.

You giggled faintly as you were trying to instruct the boy how to hold the broom and how to command it.

At that moment, you seemed to be happy and relaxed, clearly enjoying teaching him. He was also chuckling faintly as he absorbed everything you told him, doing his best to make you proud and show you that he was paying attention.

Agatha could not help but imagine you, being the same to Nicholas had he ever the chance to grow. Spending time with him, teach him the brooms, the stars, and so many things.

Her heart felt heavy, and she did not dare to trail further down that path. Instead, she looked forward again and tried to focus on anything but you with the boy and Rio.

Chapter 24

#agatha all along #protective agatha #protective rio #agatha harkness #agatha spoilers #agatha fanfic #agatha x reader #agatha harkness x reader #moon phases fanfic #marvel #kathryn hahn #aubrey plaza

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disillusioneddanny · 8 months ago

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Dis Fic List: Dead on Main aka Danny Fenton/Jason Todd

Thought it might be a fun challenge to make some rec lists for my fics! This one is of all of my Jason/Danny fics.

Let me know if there are any lists you'd like to see from my works!

Collapse Into My Arms (And I'll Take Care of Your Heart)

Jason Todd is about to go into heat. Thankfully he has his amazing Beta boyfriend who makes Jason feel safer than anyone has ever made him feel before.

Info:

Oneshot

Words: 1,170

Lightning in a Bottle

Jason gets his neck sliced by Bruce’s batarang. It irreversibly damaged his vocal cords. Pros: He can still use ghost speak Cons: None of his family knows ghost speak (as it’s sounds aren’t for living men to understand) Thankfully Jason meets Danny Fenton who not only understands ghost speak but can teach him how to live again after his accident.

Chapters: 21/21 --completed

Words: 46,202

Fallin' Into Your Ocean Eyes

After a fight with his father, Jason finds himself getting comfort from his merperson boyfriend, Danny.

Oneshot

Words: 2,874

You Put Your Arms Around Me (And I'm Home)

Jason Todd can't get over the fact that he has the life he does. Bruce Wayne reminds him that he's deserving of a good life.

oneshot

Words: 2,912

People Watching

Jason has been people watching for as long as he can remember, always wondering when it would be his turn to fall in love. And then he meets Danny and realizes maybe it's his turn.

Oneshot

Words: 1,518

Wait For It

When sixteen year old Danny goes to check out the Lazarus Waters in a different universe he doesn't know what he's expecting. Somehow getting a new halfa boyfriend and a baby brother was what were in the books for the young Ghost Prince. Everything seems to be going well, though, until first Jason decides to leave the League of Assassins and Danny to get revenge for his death, and then Damian decides that now that he is about to get to meet his real father, he will no longer need Danny. Years later, though, both Damian and Jason realize that they lost more than expected when leaving Danny behind all those years before. Especially after watching the powerful ghost king defeat an enemy within seconds. Now both must figure out how to fix their broken relationships with the ghost who helped them when they needed it most and never asked for more.

Chapters: 17/17

Words: 33,891

A Lover's Lament

After being cursed by Plasmius, Danny's soulmate is forced to become reincarnated and forget everything he ever knew about his soul mate each cycle. Danny is forced to find his love and bring back the memories of their time together each life cycle until he can break the curse one day. Jason Todd was born to parents who did not really care about him. Lucky for him, his soulmate refuses to let him die before his time is up and is more than prepared to take care of him to the best of his ability.

Chapters: 23/23

Words: 40,310

Learn How to Fly

Jason wakes up in the Zone confused. Why the fuck does he have wings? And who is this weird Prince Phantom?

Oneshot

Words: 2,252

The Devil Wore a T-Shirt

After a one-night stand, Danny finds himself pregnant with Red Hood's kid. Now he finds himself as a dad to a small child with an important decision to make. Does he tell Red Hood he has a child? Or does Danny raise the kid by himself?

Chapters: 11/11

Words: 24,778

#dpxdc #Jason Todd x Danny Fenton #Dead On Main #Dead On Main Ship #Fic Recs

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reccyls · 11 days ago

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Victor's Main Route: Blind Love Chapter 23 + Letter

< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >

The next morning, I got up earlier than usual to wait for Victor.

(Maybe it’s a bit too early…)

The last time Victor came to pick me up for something, I had still been asleep when he arrived. I didn’t want to embarrass myself any further in front of him, so I had resolved to wake up earlier. However…

(...I’m bored.)

To make use of the free time, I decided to work on my report of last night’s events. I sat down in front of my typewriter and started working. Keeping my eyes on the words flying across the paper, I detailed the evils of the council leader.

(The council leader’s beliefs are the exact opposite of Victor’s.)

Unlike Victor, who chose duty above himself, and to sacrifice himself for the sake of the nation, The council leader only cared about things that benefited him, and not about the people.

(He even said that they were meant to be used.)

A land in which everyone may live freely, enjoying happiness without fear of falling victim to injustice. That was what Victor, as ruler of England, wished to achieve. In contrast, the council leader wanted happiness only for a select group of people. Technology and power were used only to fulfill his own greed.

(Even though those were meant to develop Victor’s country to give people more prosperous lives.) (The council leader trying to abuse them for his own ends is unforgivable.)

I finished my report with the conclusion that this was evil that Crown needed to condemn, and that the council leader had in the end been overcome by guilt so that he committed suicide.

(That’s that for last night.) (And now…)

I unlocked the drawer in my desk, glancing over the report I stored within.

It was about Victor.

(I wonder if I can complete it now.)

As I reached for the report I had stopped writing halfway through… A knock sounded at the door, and I quickly shut and locked the drawer again.

Victor: Kate, are you up?

Kate: Yes, I’ll be right there!

I put away the report I had been writing, then grabbed my bag and opened the door. My attention was once again captured by the sight of the smile he made as our eyes met.

Victor: Good morning, Kate.

Kate: Good morning, Victor.

We greeted each other. Such a simple thing was enough to fill me with happiness to the point I thought I might burst. But…

(After this, how many more times will we be able to say ‘good morning’ to each other like this?)

To try and disguise the sudden loneliness I felt, I put on my brightest voice as I continued speaking.

Kate: Where are we going today?

A gentleness filled his eyes as he answered.

Victor: Somewhere quite far from London.

…

We took a carriage to the train station.

Victor: Kate, over here.

He still hadn’t revealed our exact destination. We made our way to a train car and sat down facing each other. A young girl’s voice called out to us from outside the car.

Flower Seller: Hello, would you like a flower?

Victor was faster than me to respond to the girl, who carried a full basket of flowers.

Victor: I was just thinking I’d like some flowers. Could I have all of them?

Flower Seller: All of them!?

Victor: I’ll pay for them, of course.

His gaze was warm as he watched the girl frantically do calculations in her head. I watched them with a smile, knowing that she was one of the citizens Victor wanted to protect. After the girl finished calculating how much all the flowers would cost, she gave Victor all the flowers as he paid, and gave her a tip on top.

Flower Seller: Huh…?

She looked confused, but Victor just smiled at her.

Victor: I wouldn’t be able to have such wonderful flowers if not for you. Spend it as you like.

The train’s whistle pierced through the air. It was time to depart.

Flower Seller: Thank you, mister, miss!

As the train began moving, we continued to wave goodbye to the girl until she disappeared from view.

Kate: They really are wonderful flowers.

I shut the window as the train began to pick up speed, my gaze falling on the large bouquet of flowers.

Victor: They’ll be needed when we reach our destination. Victor: I thought about visiting a florist to buy some, but children like them tend to gather near stations as well. Victor: Since we’re going to be taking the train anyway, I figured it would be better to buy some from them.

These flowers were not perfectly selected the way they would be at a professional florist. They were more like wildflowers which grew on the sides of roads, like the ones I was more familiar with. Their familiarity made them lovely, and I picked one to smell it. Its pleasant scent made me smile, which in turn made Victor look pleased.

Kate: I just remembered that there were similar flowers that grew near the post office. Kate: I’m sure the flowers from a florist are wonderful, but these are amazing too. Kate: Maybe even more amazing, knowing how hard that girl must have worked to gather all of them.

Dirt had gotten under the girl’s nails, and her fingers had been stained by the flower stems. It must have taken so long to gather this many flowers.

Victor: I wish that I could work even one second faster, to create a world where children won’t have to work. Victor: But the world can’t change in the blink of an eye. I must start with only what I can do, first.

His profile as he gazed out the window was full of sorrow. I put the flower back and whispered.

Kate: …But I believe that someday, Her Majesty will make that world real.

Victor turned to me with his eyes widened in surprise, and I grinned at him.

Kate: Queen Victoria’s guidance helped develop the economy and made the country richer, right? Kate: I’m sure that will lead to better lifestyles and education for children like that girl, and that will bring the future closer to becoming reality. Kate: There isn’t anyone else who thinks more about the citizens of the country, after all.

He let out a breath.

Victor: Ahaha, you’re exactly right. Victor: That is why she took the throne. Victor: To make everyone in the country happy, the country must be developed enough so that every single citizen can be supported.

The sorrow in his face vanished, replaced by an excited cheerfulness.

Victor: You truly believe in Her Majesty.

Kate: Yes. I think she’s a wonderful person.

We spoke like we were sharing a private joke, and Victor sounded even more amused as he continued.

Victor: Then I’d like to ask, what exactly do you like about Her Majesty?

Kate: Uh…

You’re really making me say it?

Asking like that is cheating. (+4/+2)

Things like this.

Kate: Asking like that is cheating…

Victor: Really? I think Her Majesty would enjoy knowing, though. Victor: Because it’s the words that come directly from your mouth.

He was smiling teasingly as he waited for my response. I took a deep breath and sat up straighter.

Kate: …Like I said before, I admire that she cares so much for the citizens of her country, more than anyone else. Kate: She works so hard so that everyone can live freely, and I think that’s incredible. Kate: But…

Victor: Hm?

Kate: I’m worried that she doesn’t seem to consider herself to be one of those citizens. Kate: Just like she wishes for the happiness of her people, Kate: There are those who wish for our ruler to live a life full of happiness and freedom, too.

Victor blinked in surprise.

(He’s probably not going to agree…)

I let my expression relax, just a bit, and continued to look into his rounded, jewel-like eyes. No matter how much I wished for it, I knew it wasn’t something he could accept. …But that wouldn’t change anything about how I felt.

(I’ll never stop wishing for Victor’s happiness. Not for a single moment.)

Kate: Please make sure you tell Her Majesty what I said. Kate: It’s the will of her beloved people, after all.

Instead of responding, he just smiled, and closed his eyes. The train continued to speed to its destination.

…

Kate: This is…

We got off the train in a village some hours away from London. Just a few minutes after leaving the train, the view that spread before my eyes was full of lush greenery, unlike anything I’d ever seen in London. As I watched the rolling hills that seemed to go on and on beyond the horizon were sprinkled with verdant trees, holding the bundle of flowers, Victor began walking and I followed.

Victor: This village is a popular summer holiday location for aristocrats.

Kate: I think I’ve heard about this place before. There’s a really famous lake here, right?

The nobility of London would flee the heat and bustle of summer London, gathering at places like this. When I was working as a postal worker, every summer there was a noble family that left for this village, but one of them would stay behind in London. I remembered that there were always letters and postcards to deliver to the noble who stayed behind.

Victor: My uncle has a second residence here.

Victor had a nostalgic look on his face as he continued speaking while walking.

Victor: When I was a child, I’d be allowed to stay in my uncle’s villa during the summers. Victor: It was the one time each year that I would be able to escape the palace.

As the warm sunlight illuminated the path before us, the clear blue sky above seemed to stretch into infinity. As we walked, I spotted a lake near the foot of the hill we were on. The surface of the lake sparkled in the light, reflecting the world like a giant mirror. There was not a single bit of impurity in the water. I was entranced.

Standing next to me, Victor pointed to the lake and reminisced.

Victor: I would go fishing on that pier. Victor: Go running along the opposite bank. Victor: Ah, and I used to roll around in that grass over there.

I smiled as I imagined Victor as a child.

(Those sound like wonderful memories…)

Kate: Sounds like you were an overactive kid.

Victor: I have always put in all my effort into the things I enjoy, Kate. Victor: None of this was allowed at the palace, so I let out my energy here. Victor: I could feel like I was the freest person in the world when I was here. Only here, nowhere else.

Victor began to walk again. I followed after him, listening attentively as he spoke about his past.

Victor: I was always the closest to my uncle out of all my other family members. Victor: I saw him more as a brother, albeit one much older than I was. And he had always been kind to me, ever since I was very young.

(His uncle… was the one he had taken the life of…)

He noticed the shadow that fell over my expression, but laughed ruefully.

Victor: As you’ve realized, my uncle was the first person I had deliberately killed. Victor: Until the succession crisis became an inescapable part of my reality, I had continued to keep regular contact with my uncle. Victor: But once my father died, we were forced to stay apart from each other.

I couldn’t spot any sadness in his expression as he spoke. But I knew the sorrow I sensed wasn’t just my imagination.

Victor: I had no prominent position in the royal family, and rarely left the palace, so very few people knew of my existence. Victor: My uncle was well-known, and popular. Honestly it probably wouldn’t have made much of a difference if I showed my face more back then.

Kate: Why?

I turned to fully face him as he held the flowers.

Victor: In my opinion, my uncle had always been the better candidate to become king.

He seemed like he was looking at something far in the distance.

Victor: He treated everyone equally and never stopped thinking about how he could help make the country better. Victor: Because I’d known him ever since my childhood, I’ve always known just how great a person he was.

Kate: But, your uncle is…

We stopped walking. I followed Victor’s gaze to a headstone. There was a row of unmarked gravestones.

Victor: He was an incredible person, but had just one weakness. Victor: And that was his weak will.

Victor knelt and began laying out the flowers on the graves, one after the other.

Victor: Knowing that, I asked him about his resolve that night.

The wind began to blow strongly. Victor’s long dark hair painted a waving line against the blue sky.

Victor: This is where my family rests eternally, their lives taken by my hand.

Kate: What?

Victor: …Or it would be, but there’s nothing buried here. Their actual bodies are interred in a cemetery in London. Victor: So I made these graves here on my own.

He replaced the flowers that had been blown aside by the wind.

Victor: So that I will remember the sin of killing them, for the rest of my life.

His eyes closed as if in prayer, and he let out a breath. Born into the royal family and wielding a curse, he caused the deaths of his entire family and now sat on the throne with the weight of the world on his shoulders.

(How much longer will he have to keep bearing it?)

If he hadn’t been born into the royal family, if he had never been cursed, maybe none of this would have happened.

(He’s probably thought the same thing.)

But because he was born into the royal family, and because he was cursed, he was here now.

(And I fell in love with the him who is here now.)

I closed my own eyes, lacing my fingers together in prayer. Even though the path I walked to get here was filled with so much pain and sorrow, I was glad, from the bottom of my heart, that I had met him.

(That too, won’t ever change.)

May the lives he took rest in peace. All I could do was pray.

Victor: Sorry to keep you waiting… Kate?

I heard the sound of his footsteps drawing near, but I continued praying. He stopped just next to me, and I didn’t know what expression was on his face at that moment.

Victor: …Thank you.

Those quiet words should have been swallowed up by the wind, but I heard them loud and clear.

Letter: I Want to Talk About Memories With You

Dear Kate,

When you told me about your childhood that one time, it reminded me of my own childhood memories.

What games did I use to play? What did I use to like? What did I find fun? What memories are unforgettable?

Almost all of my happiest memories are gathered here. I loved the time I could spend freely here more than anything else. I could forget all about the annoying obligations I had, even if for just a moment.

I never thought that it would be like this, but I am truly happy I can show this place to you.

What are you thinking as we walk around? I sneak glances at your profile to try and guess.

Your eyes shine so much more brilliantly than the scenery that surrounds us.

#ikemen villains #my translation #victor (ikevil)

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scariusaquarius · 14 days ago

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rehab. 25.

Avenger! Bucky Barnes x Winter Soldier! Fem! Reader

Summary: While on a mission to find any more possible super soldiers that were a part of the Winter Soldier program, Steve and Bucky make a discovery in an abandoned HYDRA base that was cleared out a few years prior to their mission. They discover the Reader, a long-forgotten soldier that was still asleep within a functioning cryostasis pod; still awaiting orders. While Bucky isn't happy about it, he is put up to the challenge of helping to rehabilitate the soldier in Wakanda where she may be able to become a person again.

A/n: Now we get to see some nice comfort before the REAL start of the story begins ;) and please forgive any grammar or spelling mistakes, i was very tired at the time of posting this rip. Also, if you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee! If you would prefer to read Rehab on Archive, you may do so right HERE!

This is an au where Bucky joined the avengers but still rehabilitated in Wakanda (sometime before Infinity War [canon divergent cause NOPE]). I am NOT fluent in Russian, so I did use google translate cause I couldn't find a good translator that I trusted. If anything is wrong, PLEASE let me know!! Also, I tried to list as many warnings as possible so you know what the story will contain as chapters are posted. Stay safe!

Genre: Slowburn, Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Humor, Drama, Dark Content Rated: Explicit Warning: Angst, Dark Content: Graphic Depictions of Sexual Assault, Blood and Gore, Mentions of Manipulation, Kidnapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Body Horror, Nonconsensual Body Modification/Scarring, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts/Ideation, Graphic Depictions of Human Remains, Mentions of Sexual Coercion/Manipulation, Death, Misuse of Drugs/Forced Drugging, Self-Harm (Graphic Depictions and Mentions), Nightmares

Author: ScariusAquarius

rehab masterlist. chapter 22 / chapter 23 / chapter 24

After the bath, Natasha had wrapped (Y/n) up in a fluffy robe that felt so soft yet strange against her skin. (Y/n) had never felt the texture of microfiber before, and the feeling of the cloth brushing against her scarred skin had the woman shivering slightly. Her feet padded silently against the ground as Natasha stretched, saying with a gentle smirk.

"That was definitely needed. I don't know about you, but I'm pretty hungry. Why don't we get something to eat as well?"

(Y/n) didn't respond, just following Natasha closely as they began to exit the hall, but Natasha's body freezing and tensing had (Y/n) immediately become alert.

Her fingers clenched, the muscles in her calves tensing, and (Y/n) ears began to listen closely. She could hear Shuri speaking softly with someone, two sets of footsteps accompanying her as well as the swishing of a cape and wheels squeaking on the ground.

"...the extent of his injuries, we will need to monitor him for a while. To be honest, I'm not surprised that Sergeant Barnes did this to him."

Steve's voice rang out, his tone steeled and upset.

"How did he even know where Rollins' was in the first place? As far as I was aware, nobody has heard or seen Bucky since the mission."

Their steps became closer, and though Natasha tried to block the hall with her body, (Y/n) was still able to peek over her shoulder to see the group walking by.

The second that (Y/n) eyes connected with Rollins' unconscious and bloodied, swollen face, her whole body froze. A ringing sounded within her ears, and though she did not notice it, her body began to shake violently. Her robe loosened slightly, the warmth being replaced by the freezing cold and sending her further into her panic.

Natasha immediately turned as Shuri cursed and rushed forward so (Y/n) could no longer see Rollins. Steve froze, his eyes widening at the sight of the panicking soldier before he jumped into action, kneeling beside Natasha while he asked.

"What can I do?"

Natasha hissed slightly, pushing Steve away just the slightest.

"Give her some space. She's not going to snap out of this so easily."

Steve pursed his lips before staying next to Natasha as they watched (Y/n) spiral out of control.

Holiday.

She was sitting in the Mind chair, her activation words echoing through her mind and reverbing through her as Rollins stood in front of her, a neutral yet disgusted look upon his face. The pain within her temples was unbearable, static ringing within her ears, and the second she bared her teeth at him; his hand smacked against her cheek as hard as it could before she was forced back down into the chair for another round.

Cross.

Her mission was a success, but even the soldier knew that there was never any complete satisfaction for a job-well-done. There were things to improve; behaviors that were unbecoming of a Winter Soldier. She would be reprimanded for not striving to do her very best, even if she had. The soldier knew this very well, even as she clutched onto the post outside in the freezing cold; naked and bleeding as a whip cracked down upon her back over and over and over with Rollins' cruel laughter her only music.

Shatter.

Although the soldier couldn't remember the exact incident that caused for her to be punished, she remembered the punishment quite well. There were tears in her eyes as Rollins lied a top of her, rope around her neck that he held tight enough to cut off her air-supply. Her hands were tied behind her back, legs complacently spread as he moved above her, hissing out how 'disgusting' and 'vile' she was to him; forcing her to look at herself in a dirtied mirror in the corner with her dead eyes staring right back at her.

'It's okay, (Y/n), we're here with you.'

Stimulation.

A good soldier is to never speak unless spoken to and given permission, and this was a rule that had been engraved in her since the beginning. Rollins had tested her; silently quizzing her on her ability to remember her place, and she had failed. The soldier remembered the way Rollins' had punched her so hard that teeth came flying out of her jaw. The glint of silver caught her eye, and that's when he began to cut into the skin of her mouth; carving and slicing as he threatened and screamed all the while.

'Just breathe. We're not going anywhere.'

Integrity.

She had tried to fight back for the first time when Rollins had attacked her, swinging her fists and trying to connect with him after he had beaten her again. She was angry, screaming and furious and wild as the soldier ran at him, but Rollins had always been one step ahead. The soldier hadn't seen the group of agents with the cattle prods, and before she could actually hit the man, all she remembered was electricity and heat and a boot continuously kicking her in the stomach until her ribs gave away and she was vomiting blood. They never stopped. They never ever stopped.

I want to go home.

Sport.

"My mother used to bring me and my big brother here all the time," a gentle laugh. "He used to make fun of me because I was afraid of the bugs! Mom would get so upset with us for bickering." A moment of silence, a distant rustle of the trees and the sweet scent of wild flowers and soft cologne. "I truly miss James so much."

Axis.

The training sessions were always brutal. Every step, every swing, every counter was to be precise and without fail. The soldier hated living within his shadow, a part of her knowing that she would never amount to the accomplishments of The Winter Soldier; could never be better than he was. She knew this the best when his hits would knock her down; never relenting as Rollins stood in the background as he observed and watched with dissatisfaction.

'(Y/n), it isn't real.'

Assumption.

"This particular aircraft should constitute precise control, angular velocity, and torque while maintaining stability and direction due to the rotation of the nacelles, which are determined by the lift vector," her voice echoed within her mind. "so, due to this, the Bell X-22 aircraft will not only be great for speed, but for maneuvering in times of evasive action."

North.

The thunder roared in the distance, her eyes staring out the window as the rain came pouring down. It was the only time she remembered feeling peace within her cell; the pattering of the water against the window like her own percussion solo concert. Her fingers drummed slightly in time with the droplets, dried and crusted blood falling from her fingers as she moved them. She always did like the rain.

Aurora Borealis.

"(Y/n)?"

Her eyes were staring into baby blues, her hands clutching onto flesh and vibranium like a vice. Her heart was still racing and pounding, but the scent of ivory soap invaded her nostrils and instantly grounded her. Her cheeks were soaked and hot, her eyes feeling swollen and painful, and she was aware of blood trickling down her temples from where she had gripped her hair and scalp too tightly.

(Y/n) was trembling, staring into his eyes as she continued to hold onto him, and she was subtly confused. Where had he come from? Why was she holding onto him so tightly? Why did he even care?

Her breathing was slowing, his voice soft and patient as he coaxed her, his presence overwhelming to her and the woman feeling so small beneath him.

"There you go."

Staring into the eyes of Bucky Barnes, (Y/n)'s lips trembled again as fresh tears filled her eyes and her nose dribbled with snot as she cried out.

"I want to go home!"

Bucky's voice was shaky, trying to hide the broken feeling inside from the knowledge that she could never go home because of him.

"I know...I'm sorry."

She was sobbing hard and loud, her chest tight and lungs hurting but unable to stop from the weight of the memories hitting her. Bucky wasn't sure what to do, especially with her gripping his arms so hard that he was surprised his flesh arm hadn't caved beneath the strength of her hands.

His voice was caught within the back of his throat, his esophagus closing up with every possible thing he wanted to say; all of the apologies he wanted to plead to her. However, Bucky knew that there was no amount of apologies that could change the past.

Give them a new face to look at.

"Я здесь." (i'm here)

He stayed sitting in front of her, allowing her to continue to grip onto him despite feeling as though he had no right to be here comforting her. But Peter's words were ringing loudly in his ears repeatedly; reminding him of why he was here in the first place.

Bucky hadn't been able to sleep after visiting Rollins. His adrenaline was too high, his breathing too hard, and his mask was sitting next to him as Bucky perched high on one of the landings on the outside of the Citadel.

The wind was blowing gently, his hair swaying slightly with the wind, and although Bucky was completely concealed, he still had a clear view of Shuri's lab where (Y/n) was standing in the window; her eyes wide as she looked out into the Wakandan night.

Even after thrashing Rollins around, Bucky still didn't feel any better. He knew, deep down, it wouldn't have.

It was just something that was a long-time coming.

The silence had been broken with the sound of someone landing softly next to him, and Bucky glanced to see Peter taking off his mask and letting out a big sigh. For a moment, Peter said nothing, sensing the turmoil within Bucky by the way the man was quiet, tensed, and guarded.

"Um, Mr. Barnes, er, Bucky-sir, can I...say something?"

Bucky didn't answer him. Instead, Bucky's jaw clenched just the slightest; trying not to snap at Peter. He was just a kid, after all. A sweet, nosy, annoying-ass kid. Peter took a leap of faith, saying slowly and cautiously.

"So… not really great at this kind of thing, but… you looked like you could use someone not judging you. I’m good at that. Not judging, I mean."

Peter's ears went red, and Bucky slightly huffed a laugh through his nose as he listened to Peter stumble over himself. Peter then gently continued.

"I'm pretty sure I said this before but, uh, I could...be wrong, but I don’t know everything you’ve been through...but, I guess in a way, I understand a bit."

Peter paused for a moment, looking out at the kingdom as his feet swayed just the slightest as they hung over the ledge.

"There was this girl in my class that I had the biggest crush on. I mean, I couldn't stop embarrassing myself in front of her...it was kind of sad, now that I think about it..."

Bucky smirked just the slightest although Peter didn't notice.

"I asked to her to Homecoming...and then I found out her dad was this really bad guy called the Vulture. I don't know if you know anything about that, it's not really one of my greatest hits as Spiderman, but...it was really hard for me to deal with it because...on one hand, I really, really wanted to make Liz happy and go to the dance with her, you know?"

Peter hesitated for a moment, fiddling with his mask before he continued.

"But on the other hand, all I could think about was the fact her dad was a villain. So, I left her at the dance to stop her dad from doing some really bad things...and saving the day...didn't really feel like I saved anything at all."

Peter turned to Bucky then, his eyes soft yet twinged with a rekindled sadness.

"I know that maybe it doesn't really feel like it...but maybe saving someone doesn’t always look like it does in the movies. Sometimes it just means being there when they need you, even if they don’t know it yet."

Bucky finally looked at Peter, his eyes calm but a swirl of pain still dancing behind his baby blue irises.

"You think I deserve to...even when I'm the one that helped HYDRA do this to her?"

Peter didn’t answer right away. His brows furrowed, and he glanced down at his hands, fiddling with the fabric of his suit.

“I don’t know if it’s about deserving, exactly. I think it’s about choosing to try anyway. Even if it’s hard. Even if people don’t get it. Even if you don’t.”

Bucky was quiet, examining Peter as the young man looked at him, and Bucky shook his head after a moment.

"You're nosy as hell, Queens, you know that?"

Peter winced, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah...Mr. Stark likes to remind me of that a lot."

When Bucky came back into the present, (Y/n) was staring right at him, her sobs reduced to small sniffles and trembling lips as she gazed at him, and Bucky just sighed slightly before he stated softly, his words holding a weight that transcended through time and familiarity.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner."

For a moment, the woman hesitated; unsure of what to reply with before she whimpered weakly.

"You left...to retrieve my Handler..."

Her words gutted Bucky for a moment, his body tensing just the slightest before the woman asked weakly.

"...Everything...wasn't a test?"

Bucky immediately shook his head, replying gently though his words were firm.

"No. Nothing was a test. I just had some unfinished business to take care of...some long and very overdue business."

The image of Rollins' bloodied face flashed through (Y/n)'s mind, and she looked down at the ground for a moment before she stiffened at the sight of Bucky's hand slowly coming up with a cloth. Her hand fell from his arm, falling to join the other hand that was still gripping his vibranium hand, and Bucky began to slowly wipe the blood off of (Y/n)'s face and temples.

"And I also think that it's been time for dinner for a while. You hungry?"

For a moment, (Y/n) didn't respond; mulling over his every action and word before she slowly nodded.

"Okay."

Bucky, although still feeling downtrodden by everything, couldn't help but to allow the smallest smile come across his face before he carefully stood up, holding a hand out for the woman; who stared at his hand with wide eyes. Bucky said nothing, patiently waiting for the woman to decide.

Then, her hand slipped into his slowly as the warmth began to come back to her; the cold no longer seeping into her like a parasite.

STORY NOTES: After their bath together, Natasha and (Y/n) are coming out of the bathhall while Shuri, Steve, Tony, and Vision are transporting Rollins to the lab for to administer medical attention. Despite Natasha's efforts to keep (Y/n) from seeing the man, (Y/n) peeks over Natasha's shoulder to see what is going on. When she sees Rollins, however, (Y/n) is instantly triggered and begins to breakdown. Steve attempts to help, but Natasha, understanding what is happening, tells Steve that there isn't much that they can do for (Y/n).

(Y/n) begins to have a montage of flashbacks: Rollins using a whip on her when she did not perform on a mission well, Rollins raping her, Rollins beating her when (Y/n) failed a test of obedience, a time when she tried to fight back against Rollins, a conversation with Rebecca [although (Y/n) does not remember her], a training session with Bucky when he was still the Winter Soldier, an exhibit of her project on the Bell X-22 when she worked at the CIA, and the calm of a thunderstorm after another alluded beating from Rollins.

(Y/n) snaps out of her stupor when Bucky suddenly calls her name, the familiarity of the soap he uses grounding and distracting her for a moment. Bucky coaxes her to calm down slowly, his efforts effective as she begins to calm, and when (Y/n) has mental clarity again, she professes her desire to 'go home'. Bucky, however, feels horrible at the words and quietly apologizes to her; the weight of her words heavy upon his shoulders. Bucky stays with (Y/n) a while longer while she continues to cry, and Bucky thinks back on a conversation he had with Peter while seeking solitude outside of the Citadel.

He remembers how Peter had approached him and asks to talk to him. Bucky doesn't answer him at first, so Peter continues to speak. He tells Bucky about his crush on Liz Allen during Spiderman: Homecoming and how he found out that her dad was The Vulture. He talks about the difficulty of choosing to stay at the dance with Liz or to confront her dad, and he states that 'saving the day didn't really feel like saving anything at all'. Peter tells Bucky that even if it doesn't feel as though he's saving (Y/n), it isn't always going to be so cut-and-dry. Bucky then asks if Peter thinks that Bucky deserves to help her, and Peter responds that it isn't a matter of deserving, but a matter of trying, even if it's hard or unexplainable.

When Bucky comes back to the present, Bucky apologizes again the (Y/n), his words holding double-meaning, and (Y/n) points out that he left to retrieve Rollins. She asks if everything really wasn't a test, and Bucky confirms, stating that he just had some 'unfinished business' to take care of with Rollins. Bucky begins to gently clean the blood from (Y/n)'s face where she had dug her fingers into her scalp and tore her skin, and he asks if (Y/n) wanted to get something to eat. (Y/n) agrees, and Bucky holds his hand out for the woman to take, and (Y/n) finally reaches out; no longer feeling cold. End Scene.

TRANSLATION:

Я здесь. - I'm here

TAGLIST: @tilldeathripsusapart @vicmc624 @mgchaser @aash3 @samfunko @seventeen-x @valckenaux @babybeeelle @sc4rrc @cjand10 @bane-y-zane @notsostrangerthing @thenameswinter99

#bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #the winter soldier #winter soldier #marvel #marvel x reader #captain america #captain america x reader

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kangaracha · 10 months ago

Text

QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 23

---

pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

previous | masterlist | next

---

"I love when you do that," Hyunjin sighs to his phone screen, sitting down in the chair next to you.

"Hm?" you ask, looking up from your own phone. It's hard to see his face in the grey light of your hiding place, away from the stage lights and flashing cameras of the set across the room. "Do what?"

"Put him in his place," Hyunjin says. "We needed someone older than him on our side."

You huff a laugh, watching I.N climb up amongst the set pieces. "Chan's older than him."

"Chan just flirts until he's grossed out." Hyunjin pulls a face that makes you laugh again, leaning back in his chair. "I like your way better. It's much funnier."

"I might have made an enemy though," you say wryly. "Seungmin's side is not always the correct side."

"I wouldn't take any side if I was you," he replies. "If I were you for one day..." His hand covers his mouth, eyes screwing up as if it's a dream that is so delightful it is hard to imagine and unbearable to let go.

"You want to?" you ask. "You can be me for the whole music video shoot. You can teach my arms how to dance."

He shoots you a look, turning back to disgust again. "I don't want to work," he says. "I just want to speak casually to Minho-hyung for five minutes."

"You can't be me then," you say, turning back to the shoot happening across the floor. "No lazy dongsaengs. I already chased Felix out of here."

The look Hyunjin gives you is judgemental, mouth twisted as if he has something he's not saying. "Maybe someone should be you for a day so that you take one off."

You look at him out of the corner of your eye, trying to stifle the laugh that bubbles in your throat. "I don't want a day off," you tell him, before he can get any ideas. "I'm very happy the way I am."

"Well, as long as you're happy," Hyunjin sighs and pulls out his phone to check Seungmin's next message.

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids

@hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts

@puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night

@d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk

@minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification

@starssongs98 @weirdhumanbeinglol @morinuu @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @bokkiesplace

@amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @skzstaykatsy @blackhairandbangs @jungkookies1002

@hyuuukais @imsiriuslyreal @thatonedemigodfromseoul @gini143 @mercurywritesstuff

@splat00z @filmbypsh @palindrome969 @crabrangoongirl25 @enzos-shit

@jabmastersupriseee @kayleefriedchicken @hynjinswrld @duhgurl @cheshireshiya

@keepswingin

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jiminjamms · 1 year ago

Text

sex therapy :: 26. together

chapter tags/warnings: a very broken marriage. heavy angst. at least i am not gege. mai and maki and megumi as an iconic trio. infidelity/adultery. family drama. strong language. corruption.

word count: 4.8k

notes: thank you for the overwhelming reception from the last chapter! work has been consuming my life, sadly, which is why this chapter took longer than i anticipated. gr. in this upcoming piece, though, my main focuses are the character development in y/n as well as explanations from toji himself. enjoy! likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. xoxo

fic masterlist | 01. 02. 03. 04. 05. 06. 07. 08. 09. 10. 11. 12. 13. 14. 15. 16. 17. 18. 19. 20. 21. 22. 23. 24. 25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30. 31. 32. 33.

A large, warm hand massaged the delicate stretch between your thumb and forefinger.

Gently. Leisurely. Daintily.

Vanilla and cinnamon notes entered your lungs with every inhale, a velvetiness akin to everything you imagined clouds to be like if brushing against your cheek, the comforting sensations bringing back nostalgic memories from the carefree times your heart longed to return to.

Was this Heaven? you wondered in this dark and dreamy daze.

You would not mind staying in this state eternally if that meant the promise of peace and quiet forever.

A voice, not from yourself, dispersed your thoughts.

“Suguru, what are the chances she won’t ever wake up?”

Wake up?

Oh, so you were just asleep.

“Shut up, Sukuna,” another person quipped, this tone more leveled and coarser than the last. “Don’t say shit like that.”

The first person, who must be Sukuna then, chuckled lowly to himself. “Oh, who would’ve thought? Choso is having a soft spot?” he marveled with great interest, “Since when did you care so much about—”

But a third voice interrupted the banter. “She’s awake.”

After a long struggle, your eyes fluttered open to see a crowd gathered around you. Immediately beside you was Suguru Geto. He had been the one nestling your hand, but he practically didn’t look like himself with the concern etched into his brow, replacing the cheerfulness in his typical visage. Behind him stood Sukuna and Choso. The former grinned with fierce satisfaction, while the latter…scowled at you?

To be fair, Choso always scowled at you.

“Good evening, gorgeous.” Geto greeted with a melancholic smile, giving you another squeeze, firm and encouraging. Like a true gentleman, he helped you sit upright, his other hand reaching over your head to brush aside some stray strands by your forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”

Exhaustion, meanwhile, rattled you to the bone.

You were weak, your movements fragile, almost like you were a fawn in her first hours of life. You blinked rapidly while taking in the new environment, only to quickly recognize the gray and cream colors in your surroundings. Back at Toji’s apartment was where you found yourself, with the familiar spiced floral scents from the flickering candle nearby confirming that this was the master bedroom.

Given the dull throb by your temples, you frowned.

“What—?” your voice came out as a hoarse rasp. “What happened?”

The trio traded looks at each other with communicative eyes.

In the end, Choso tucked his hands into his front pocket and took the initiative to speak.

“You were in the Zenin residence with Mai and Maki, remember?” No, not really.“Got into an argument with your husband. Started having a panic attack. Collapsed. Puked.”

Oh…

Recollections from your last conscious moments flooded your head like a tsunami: the screaming, the crying, and the fighting. Loud, angry, bitter fighting.

Fighting for your dignity. Fighting for your heart. Fighting for your life. Goodness gracious. As much as the memories sucked all life from you, you instead felt completely…numb.

After all, you had already been dead on the inside. You were too worn out, both physically and emotionally, to react. Everything that you had to go through since your wedding had brought you to your wit’s end, and this recent altercation with Naoya Zenin was truly the icing on the cake.

When you caught sight of yourself in a nearby mirror, you could hardly recognize yourself. Your expression, glum. Your lips, chafed, Your face, pallor. Absent of any other color than an ashen hue.

“How…did I get here?”

“Mai and Maki got worried and called Toji, who told them to bring you here,” Sukuna answered this time. “You’re lucky the girls reacted fast, else we would have sent you to an emergency room. Suguru even stopped his shift at his clinic to watch over you.”

“I—,” you sighed, lost for words and dropping your tired gaze to the floor. Dealing with inner turmoil to this degree was more than what any sane person could handle. All efforts towards your happiness were in vain anyway, as the cosmos conspired to make your existence one neverending nightmare. Everyone else had their ambitions and shit to deal with, but here you were as an absolute nuisance to the people who should not be otherwise pestered, and you were ashamed for the unnecessary trouble that you had caused. “Gosh, this is embarrassing.”

“We are so sorry!”

Unexpectedly, the apology came from a girl’s voice, and you had to turn around to see three familiar teenagers by the bedroom door.

Just last week, you would never have imagined ever seeing Mai, Maki, and Megumi together. Yet, here you were, watching the twins and their—technically speaking—nephew (cute) standing side-by-side, twiddling their thumbs in their nervous corner (also cute).

Flustered and prepared for admonishment, Mai bowed her head at a slight angle as she hurriedly explained, “We don’t…We don’t mean to put you in an awkward position. We just didn’t know what to do. Maki and I were worried when you fell to the floor and started throwing up. We…We should’ve asked for your permission on who to call for help. But we didn’t know who else to phone, so we ended up dialing Toji. Now, we’ve put you in a weird spot and that is all our fault—”

“Do not apologize. That was the right thing to do.” The comment came from yet another person, and when Sukuna and Choso stepped to the side, who you saw at the room’s furthest end was none other than Toji Fushiguro himself.

He had taken a seat all the way by the wall, with one leg thrust over the other in a relaxed but kingly sort of manner. With his sleeves rolled up, his forearms bled to his wrists with ink, and the emeralds in his sharp gaze gleamed as he stared pointedly in your direction.

Of everyone in the room, his countenance appeared the most composed, but you could feelhim reading through the emotions present on your face. He inclined forward, resting his elbow on his knee and his chin on his palm.

When he noticed the slightest shift in your posture too, the tiny scar by his lips flexed along with a smile.

“So, you’ve figured me out, hm?”

Easily, you could sense all seven pairs of eyes in the room (the four therapists plus the three teens) landing on you. The sudden attention rendered you nervous. Even if you chose silence as your response, the entire room, the entire planet, and perhaps even the entire galaxy could speculate your answer through your expression alone.

After a long while, you breathed out, “You didn’t tell me that you were a Zenin.”

The elephant in the room had to be addressed obviously, and you were not shy to confront the situation head-on.

While you did not intend to sound accusatory, your tone came off as such anyway. How could you not, when you had essentially been misled for weeks? Sure, Toji probably did not want to be badmouthing the Zenins to the very person (you) who had been recently married into the family. But, by withholding the fact that he and your husband were cousins, Toji had created much unnecessary anguish including the current limbo that your marriage was in right now.

Meanwhile, that same man pressed his nails into his chin in contemplation.

“I am not a Zenin, though,” he eventually corrected in a domineering voice, all austere in his throne. “At least, not any longer. I took my first wife’s last name years ago. I go by Fushiguro now.” Curt, direct, and pithy. Toji wasted not a syllable. “Everything worked out though, I guess. Naobito cut me off from the Zenin clan earlier this year. Gave me ten billion yen and told me to get lost, so I did.”

Toji always kept his private matters to himself, but with everything that he had gone through, you were struck by his poise, as if being expelled from such an influential household had been a high-school breakup he had gotten over long ago.

Nonetheless, you wondered if he missed that other life, and you brought your knees toward your chest.

“So,” how should you put this, “you’re not upset?”

Toji scoffed immediately.

“Upset?” A bitter grin spread off his lips. “Why would I be upset? That household is a trash dump. All my life, there were no choices for me to make when my uncles and granduncles decided everything already,” and he began counting with his fingers, “my teachers, my classes, my extracurriculars, my friends. Everything. I was only a puppet to bring honor to the family name, bring in money for the company.”

Listening to his sonorous voice, you rested your cheek onto a knee.

"I see."

His story was depressing, and from conversations with in-laws such as Mai and Maki, you knew that he was not lying, either. Coming from nobility as well, you were also aware of the pressures that came with the people who boasted their 'old-money' statuses, but the Zenin household had always been notorious for being miserable.

Toji had said so before in a prior discussion, how ‘family isn’t family for something like the Zenins’ because both politics and business took precedence.

Then, he went on.

“Some people would kill to have my problems, but I did not want that life, you know? Around the time I started college, I decided that I wanted to make judgments for myself and be my own distinct entity, but that made people upset. Privileged. Entitled. Ungrateful. Whatever. My family members called me many things as a young adult when they figured I did not want to be their pawn for my whole life, with the only person who understood me for many years being my best friend in university.”

Megumi’s mom.

Toji nearly appeared to be an altogether different person whenever he spoke about his first wife. The chartreuse in his eyes would stir with both sorrow and fond reminiscence as he thought about the Mrs. Fushiguro you would never get to meet, his closest confidant whom he lost to the cruel separation brought by life versus death. She must have been someone whom he valued a lot—a person who completely transformed him—as Toji had discarded his last name (which was Zenin, of all things) for hers.

‘He truly loved my mom,’ Megumi explained before. 'He had given up everything.’

Thus, fate could truly be unfair.

The loss and pain Toji must have endured, a topic Megumi had alluded to in his discussion with you before.

Not to mention, the expectations, frustration, and suffocation that came from the clan's elders, too. Experiencing the intense atmosphere in the Zenin household firsthand allowed you to empathize with him. Given the stark differences between him and your lawful husband, there was no wonder Toji did not wish to deal with his older relatives' high-strung conventions.

But, if he had been suffering so much…

“Why did you care so much for what your family thought?” you asked, disregarding the look that the three teenagers by the door exchanged with each other. “Toji, you went to university in the United States. You had a wife and son at a young age. You went from a business background to a licensed therapist, so why did you not—”

“Leaving is difficult when you’re the family heir and the corporation’s CEO.”

The expression that you then returned was blank.

Huh?

His words triggered something in your head, so you repeated after him.

“Leaving is difficult when,” and your voice trailed off, “when…you…are the heir and CEO.”

Heir. CEO.

Zenin.

Toji.

Naoya.

But Toji’s older.

‘Naoya got into a huge dispute with him earlier this year.’

Sheer realization slapped you hard across your face. No way.

“Toji,” you began after letting the revelation sink into you a while later, but your voice barely eeked above a mumble, “so you were once the successor to the Zenin household and company?"

The man in question did not respond, but the silent affirmation from the six other onlookers was an answer in itself.

Yes.

In hindsight, you wanted to say you had always seen the possibility. Still, you never fully registered this until now: the thoughtfulness in his strategy, the sophistication in his speech, the charisma in his leadership.

Previously, Toji had impressed you with how much he knew about the Zenin Corporation’s market share in the Asia-Pacific or the firm’s outsized influence on the international stage. Yet, most (including yourself) would not guess that someone like Toji Fushiguro—your tattooed and brawny sex therapist (plus single dad)—had once been heralded as the indisputable inheritor to the proud lineage and conglomerate.

That had been your mistake.

Toji was more than what people made him out to be, which reminded you to never assume anything superficially about someone—a remark he had once made. For good reason, because he had been referring to himself all along.

You could almost visualize Toji Fushiguro as the seasoned executive he had once been in light of this new information: his black strands slicked into a side part, his charcoal blazer freshly pressed, his leather oxfords newly polished.

Maybe because he was more mature or maybe because he was simply older, but Toji appeared more fitting for the important roles in the Zenin household compared to the man presently poised for succession.

Consequently, you must also ask, “Then, how did Naoya end up in your seat?”

Sukuna and Megumi shared a glance.

Choso grimaced, and Suguru kissed his teeth.

Meanwhile, Toji ran a lone finger down his jaw, following the lines from a tattoo.

“Let me give you some context, sweetheart,” he offered, now brushing his chin as he spoke. “For the last—let’s say—few hundred years, the oldest male in each generation became the leader in the Zenin clan. Is the rule stupid? Yes. Should there be more criteria in evaluating a potential heir aside from birth order? Also yes. But nothing has stopped this before because the Zenins, as you know by now, are a family built on antiquity and tradition. So, when I was born as the oldest male in my generation and Naoya had come in second place...”

Toji did not have to finish his sentence for you to figure out the rest.

Despite the demands that came along with being the next family head, Toji must have been esteemed as nothing short of a crown price among the Japanese elite, with seniors in the Zenin household utilizing all their resources to prepare the once young and starry-eyed boy for taking over such an influential role. Naturally, his enviable position would spark jealousy, even from those whom Toji deemed related to by birth.

Including his very own younger first cousin.

Toji frowned in exasperation.

“Your husband is one childish and jealous brat, but Naoya Zenin has been like that for as long as I have known him. To claim the heir and CEO titles, he acquired the trust from myself and my colleagues by working with us in sex therapy, only to stab us all in the back. He’s a liar. A total manipulator.”

And, from personal experiences, you knew that those words could not be more true.

At this point, Toji sank his handsome face into his immense palm.

“Well, now Naoya Zenin has everything he wants but is still an incompetent asshole. The whole enterprise is hanging by a thread. The entire clan cannot fucking stand him. What’s crazy is that his father Naobito is not doing anything about this, and I cannot tell if that is because the old man is giving his son free passes or because he has finally gotten senile. With Naoya's pettiness, though, the father-son duo have done everything to erase my name from the family, even going as far as to dismiss the executives that I brought onto the management team to undo my legacy.”

When Toji glanced up to cast his gaze forward, you then suddenly understood that the three other men in the room were more than just his fellow board-licensed colleagues.

You recalled Toji’s words in the Teyvat meeting room.

‘I recruited these guys right when they completed their undergraduate degrees, around the time I just opened my therapy office,’ and the puzzle pieces clicked into place from the realization that sex therapy had not been the only thing that Toji had worked with them on—Sukuna, Choso, and Suguru had been executives at the Zenin Corporation reporting to Toji, too. ‘We’ve been working together since, for the past four years.’

Discerning these revelations from your expressions, Toji added in confirmation.

“I had selected these three to oversee the Zenin Corporation’s operations with me,” he said, and you remembered the same conversation in which the men discussed their University of Tokyo studies while Toji listed their previous roles. Sukuna, Economics. “Sukuna, Director of Investments and Real Estate.” Choso, Mechanical Engineering. “Choso, Chief Engineer and Supply Chain Manager.” Suguru, Biology. “Suguru, Healthcare and Innovation Administrator.”

Arguably the most consequential divisions in a conglomerate that spanned numerous sectors, with each department bringing in yen by the billions every year.

‘These guys have treated me like family more than my blood-related kin have.’

Learning this about the four therapists added to your fascination.

For you, the discovery was like uncovering a hidden treasure trove. To imagine everything that the four—as one cohesive unit—had gone through together at the top of the corporate ladder: scrutiny from the media and stakeholders, impromptu meetings that demanded make-or-break decisions, and immediate responses to industry trends and regulations.

Only for them to be cast aside by no one other than your husband.

In the end, this all made sense.

Now, you understood why the therapists were once incredibly demeaning and belligerent toward you. How could they possibly sympathize with the woman married to the man who had taken virtually everything from them?

Heck, if you were in their shoes and had no further context, you would hate yourself, too.

Only now were you hearing their perspectives, and you were grateful that—compared to several weeks before—they trusted you enough to open up.

At last, all you could do was sigh and mutter, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Sukuna shot back without hesitation, which stunned you given how he had been the one who mocked you the most. Yet, a scintilla of kindness flared in his fiery eyes, so you continued with your tone softer and quieter.

“I feel terrible.” Such vulnerability in front of so many people at once went beyond your comfort zone. “For the unfairness Naoya had brought upon you all, and how I…I can’t change anything. I can’t do anything. All I am is…useless.”

“No, you are powerful,” Suguru interjected this time. “Your husband relies on your public image to keep scrutiny off him. He needs you. He’s been demoralizing you for months because he knows the ball will always be in your court, and never his.”

His words made you stop.

“You truly think so?” you asked.

“Yes.”

Choso, who replied, seemed honest.

He was honest.

He might throw you off from how aloof and stoic his attractive face would appear, but Choso was not a liar.

Bringing your feet off the bed, you slowly swung your feet.

“I…am surprised you all even want to talk to me.”

Toji tugged at his dress shirt’s collar and flashed his ink-covered muscles underneath. “What makes you think that?”

His pointed question made you realize how much Naoya had been fucking with your mind, blaming and villainizing you at every chance, thus devolving you into a spineless worm feeling remorse for every little thing.

Shrugging, you tossed your gaze to the side.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “You could have avenged yourself by now. I am Naoya’s wife and Naobito’s daughter-in-law. There had been a thousand chances for you to do something horrible to me: to hurt me, blackmail me, spread dirty rumors about me, but…you haven’t.”

“Why would I do that?” Toji replied instantly and candidly. Rather than appearing offended by your judgments, he started giving you that look again whenever he had his therapist hat on—the one where he would tilt his head at a slight angle to gauge the sentiments painted across your face. “I could have chosen to be bitter and vengeful for the rest of my life, but I am grateful for what I have. Why let a toxic bunch impact my life? I already told you how that household is an absolute fucking hell. I'm glad I have found an out. At the very least, my son would not have to deal with the crap from my young adult years because you know who is the oldest male in the generation after mine?”

Megumi.

All gazes now fell upon the younger Fushiguro, who tried to casually shrug the attention off.

Who cares if I was second-in-line to leading perhaps the most prestigious family in Japan? his nonchalance wanted to convey, but his ears turned pink anyway.

Toji continued, “Then, of course, there are some people whom I care about a lot.” Using his head, he gestured to the twins. “These girls are the best aunts to my son that I, as a father, could ever ask for. They’re only one year older than Megumi, but Mai and Maki used to go on playdates with him on the weekends, walk him to school every morning, and cook him breakfasts over the holidays. The twins even helped my son take his first steps. There is this one photo we have in the library—I don’t know if you have gotten a chance before to see it. But there’s Mai and Maki, each holding one of Megumi’s little hands back in his chubby toddler days and—”

“Dad!” a very flustered and irritated teenage boy finally had to say. “This is not the time to talk about that picture!”

Next to him, a proud Mai and Maki coo and tease their grouchy nephew, poking at his puffed-up cheeks and ruffling his uncombed hair.

“Aw, is someone a little embarrassed?”

Smiling at the little banter from the trio, Toji did not let them distract him from his conversation with you. “What I’m trying to get at is…life’s too short not to enjoy the happy sides of it,” but his eyes glazed with rue nevertheless, “Now is the perfect time to focus on your well-being. Take a look around this room. A lot of people want to see you leading a fulfilling life, Y/N. A fulfilling life for yourself, not for anyone else. Not for me, not for anyone in this room, and certainly not for your husband. Nothing—and I mean absolutely nothing—should hold you back from pursuing your health and happiness.”

While you assumed that your best times were over, Toji reminded you those good days can be brought back with the right attitude. He had a point. Why should you allow your marriage to hinder you from connecting with people whom you care about, working towards the passions that brought you purpose, and feeling the love that you deserve?

Instead, you should seek every sunrise and sunset as an opportunity to live better and without regrets.

As you ruminated on this different mindset, a sudden knock from the door cut your thoughts short.

Who…

Like you, most others looked around blankly, but Toji ordered from his seat, “Let him in.”

Mai, who stood closest to the entryway, obeyed.

Once she unlocked the door, the room fell silent save for the footsteps of the man walking in, his soles creating soft echoes on the linoleum floor. Overhead, pale lights revealed the lines etched on his exhausted face, the worry that sat heavily on his chest.

“Mister Daisuke,” someone eventually acknowledged out of respect.

Your father did not hear the greeting as he searched the room, his sullen gaze darting from face to face until he found you. His shoulders fell from his overwhelming relief. Still in a suit after a long workday, he stumbled forward feebly.

“You’re alright,” he whispered between steps, scarcely audible.

He crouched toward the floor once he approached you, and when Suguru transferred your hands into your father’s, you noticed the unstoppable quiver from the latter even as you gripped him tightly in an attempt to stop the tremor.

His skin was tough, weathered by his additional decades in life. But, in his palms, you found the familiar tenderness that had comforted you since you were a little girl and, in his gaze, you noticed the sadness only found in the despair of a heartbroken parent.

“Thank goodness, you are okay,” and before everyone, tears slipped past his eyes, “I was terrified. I was so scared. When Toji called to tell me you had thrown up and collapsed, do you know how afraid I was?”

You glanced over at the said therapist, reminding yourself that—if Toji had been the CEO before Naoya—he must have worked very closely with your COO father up until recently. For your father to know exactly where you were and walk in with this expression suggested that the former colleagues had had a lengthy conversation about your circumstances. A part of you wanted to be angry. Why drag your father into this worry? But a larger part of you had always wanted to reveal to him the wretched months that had gone by and longed for his support.

And now, he was here.

The older man took a shuddering breath and brought his fingers to your cheek, holding and cradling you like he would never get to do this again.

“I can’t lose you,” he lamented. “I have lost enough in my life already. I cannot lose you, too. I just can’t. Why have you not told me the truth? If you were not happy with Naoya, why have you not told me sooner? Did you think I would place my loyalty to the company over my own child? I feel so guilty and broken to hear about what you have been going through.”

Frankly, you felt just as broken, too.

In fact, seeing and hearing your father weep like this shattered you. As devoted as your father was, his front never failed to be unwavering and strong. Even when your mother’s death left a significant hole in his heart, he bit back his grief. Scars from your mother’s untimely death scarred his heart, wounds that never healed and would stay with him until his last breath, but he rarely expressed his suppressed sorrow.

All for your sake. Because you were his one and only daughter, his one and only child.

So now, for him to see you in such a sorry state was crushing his whole world that had become you.

“Dad.” You helped him wipe his tears away, just like how he had always done for you. “I didn’t want to make you disappointed. I didn’t want to make you sad. I…I just wanted to protect you.”

“No,” he responded firmly. How could a loving father accept the possibility that his daughter would even think about placing him before herself? “Protect yourself first.”

You looked up when you sensed two more approaching individuals and found Mai and Maki with doleful smiles.

“We still have something to return to you, Y/N.”

In your left palm, each girl pressed one ring—the first which promised a future forever and the second which symbolized an infinite unity.

You stared at the jewelry as your chest remembered the waves of happiness, excitement, hope, confusion, betrayal, and pain.

So, so much pain.

Your father, who would not miss the solemn undertones in your gaze, squeezed your hands in his.

“My dear daughter,” he started, and you could tell he could no longer bear to see you suffer any longer, “what are you planning to do?”

Your throat turned dry.

Any possibility seemed like a viable solution, a means for a desperate escape.

For months, you should have prepared yourself for this very question, but now that you were confronted with this reality for the first time, you did not know what to say.

You had clutched onto the false hope for your troubled marriage to be sorted out. Escaping your dreary matrimony had once been too far-fetched of an option given an impending cold war between your families, which you would never wish upon the stars to happen. Therefore, even as you found yourself stuck on a stifling dead end, you did not exactly prepare for the next steps for the occasion you found Naoya Zenin’s mistreatment too much to bear.

However, times have changed.

Your allies and enemies have changed.

Most of all, you have changed.

Therefore, with all the universe’s possibilities at your fingertips, one particular option stuck out.

“I’m going to file for a divorce.”

last chapter || next chapter

end notes: So many things. To see us freak out at the idea of a divorce during the beginning of the fic, up to now, where we suggested the option out of our volution. Also, the much-needed heart-to-heart conversation between Toji and us, and how that really shows a slow maturation in our relationship with him (and everyone else)! Let me know what you think, and see you next chapter!

taglist: @dissociatingdiva @httpsplanetmarsdotcom @nemoyr @huangfairy @shadowarchon @203steph @agentdedf1sh @cloudybabes @lynn-writes-things @illicitwriter @7oji @kikuchimi @chaoticjojofan @musicisme333 @kumocchin @s-guru @mwahilovemylife @hey-gurls69 @cloudsinthecosmos @moon-mumu-moon @kazscara @skilerfrostfairy @funicidals @nico707 @proteovaldez @tsukiyohanayome @marimoares @qirbys @puffaloxx @sakanoshitaa @arizzu @kissditrio @lewd-bunny14 @mistyheart @szired @supsii @yvy1s @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi @the-cosmos-network

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httpsserene · 1 year ago

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httpsserene's F1 Kinktober '23

summary: the 2023 season has had a despicable effect on charles’ self-worth. it pains you to see how he attributes ferrari’s failure to deliver, to himself. you can’t stand to see him berate himself for things that are out of his control. when the emilia-romagna grand prix is canceled, you start forming a plan. if charles doesn’t believe he’s as good as you say he is, you’ll make him internalize it–using any means necessary.

༊࿐ ⊹ ˚. ngl, after charles told xavi “let’s talk after the race” in austin, this automatically came to mind. i love when men whimper. haha, lol, who said that. a small drabble to satiate my sub!charles urge. hope y’all enjoy reading !!!

click here to view the f1 kinktober ‘23 table of contents !

orgasm delay/denial — 𝐜𝐥. 𝟏𝟔 charles leclerc x fem!black!reader 1k words. orgasm delay/denial. handjobs. no penetrative sex. dom/sub undertones. sub!charles. mild praise kink. not beta read. orgasm control. charles’ self deprecation.

your hand is dripping lube on charles’ thigh as you brush a featherlight touch of a finger on his cock. he’s been rock hard since you’ve pulled his clothes off, even though he complained that this is the worst idea you’ve ever had. his head is turned to the side, buried in the pillow, already muffling his whimpers at your barely there touch. the red flush of his cheeks is already spreading down his chest and you haven’t even started touching him properly; this may be easier than you thought.

you shift forward, situating yourself comfortably between his legs, and you speak quietly but firmly, “tell me when you’re close.” charles hums, nodding his head jerkily, and bucks his hips upwards searching for more friction. you laugh at his desperation and push his hips down with your free hand, pressing him firmly into the bed—he doesn’t attempt to fight your grasp. power rushes to your head; he’s completely capable of pushing you off him with little to no effort; and he’s lying beneath you willingly. you loosely wrap your fist around him, and slowly drag your hand up and down. the amount of pressure you’re applying is incredibly light, but charles reacts as if you’re roughly squeezing. his back arches off the bed, thighs twitching sensitively, and his hand flies down to grasp at your wrist.

you pinch his thigh in warning, a sharp gasp at the fleeting pain escapes his lips, and you chastise him gently, “hey, i thought you were going to be good for me? hands off—put them by your head.” he squirms at the sound of your disappointment, and in his haste to be perfect for you, he takes your command a step further. he places his hands above his head, and tangles them together—he strives to be good for you.

you stare at him, unmoving, and watch as his eyes flutter across your face desperately trying to read your emotions. his eyes are wet with unshed tears, and his tongue flicks out to wet his dry lips anxiously. you break, it’s so hard to be mean to him when he looks so pretty. resuming the sweet stroke of your hand, you keep you motions calm and controlled—you want his orgasm to come to him calmly. however, no matter how gently you handle him, it doesn’t seem like your preferred outcome will play out. charles’ abs flutter, undulating at the effort he’s using to refrain from pushing up into the wet grasp of your fist, and his nails are digging into hands. on your next upward stroke, you twist your hand around the head of his cock, and his shocked moan echoes around the room. his face flushes a deeper red, humiliated at how easy he is, and he whimpers at the smirk that rises to your lips. you pick up the pace immediately, and wrap your other hand around him at his base. you sync the twist of both your hands, and hyperfocus on teasing the head of his cock. you lightly press your thumb across his slit randomly forcing a pitchy squeal from him, sometimes you trace the underside vein with a nail and a pained whine is muffled into the pillow.

it’s mortifying—not even three minutes after you started touching him, and he’s going to cum. you see him struggle to fight the coiling knot in his tummy, it’s useless, this is another race he always loses. charles’ chest heaves with his stuttered, rushed breaths and he whines in shame, “s’il te plaît—‘m close—sorry, i can’t help it!”

you coo at him, pouting your lips at his apology, “oh, charlie, don’t feel bad. you’re supposed to be close” you rub the palm of your hand roughly across his sensitive tip, and his body tenses at the switch in treatment, eyes rolling back under the intense pleasure, and you confidently reassure him, “thank you for telling me you’re about to cum. you’re always my good boy.” and, you pull your hands away from him, ceasing all motions.

charles crumbles. he sobs forcefully at the feeling of his release being pulled from him at the last second, tears streaming down his face, no longer having the will to hold them back. he thrashes his head against the pillow, and pistons his hips upwards into the air like it will convince you to touch him again. he flexes his cramped hands before he pulls them down to hide his face from your view. you let the monegasque cry out his emotions, knowing that his tears are from the shock of you denying his orgasm rather than pain. he unintelligibly pleads in french, brokenly whining about how close he was, his mouth running uncontrollably. when his tears slow, and his shoulders stop shaking, you tenderly pull his hands away from his eyes, and whisper at him sweetly to open his eyes.

he opens his pretty green eyes, and you lean down gently pecking his lips a few times before you speak, “there’s something you forgot to tell me. if you wanted my permission to cum, baby.” charles drops his eyes away, refusing to meet your gaze.

“you were supposed to tell me how good you are,” you see his lips part as he rushes to do so, but you smack your teeth, silencing him before he begins, “not how you’re good for me, charles—how you’re a good driver. how you’re one of the best, most talented formula one pilots we’ve seen. how you’re ferrari’s youngest driver since 1961. how you’re capable of winning a championship,” charles scoffs disbelievingly, “how you’ll no longer blame yourself for things out of your control. how you’ll realize that the team’s mistakes aren’t your fault. how you’ll stop allowing yourself to be the scapegoat for their shortcomings. how you’ll stop accepting their excuses for constantly disappointing you.” you stare at charles with earnest eyes, letting him absorb your words.

“you’re one of the best charles. you’re loved. everyone wants to see you succeed. everyone wants to see you become confident in yourself again. everyone knows that if ferrari gave you the car you needed, you’d be racing towards your championship. you’re skilled, charles. you’re wonderful.”

charles shakes his head, doubtful, and whispers timidly, “i’m not.”

your heart shatters, and you shakily respond, “oh,” you sniff, gathering your composure, “so, you’re saying i’m lying to you? are you calling me a liar, charles?”

charles wiggles against the bed, fighting the double-edged sword he turned on himself, and whimpers in frustration. he sobs, but shakes his head furiously at your question—you’d never lie to him, you wouldn’t hurt him. you halt the vigorous shake of his head, grasping at his chin with one hand and turning him to face you, “then…i must be telling you the truth, hm?” charles swallows, and murmurs out a soft oui.

“good,” you clear your throat and drop your hold, bringing that same hand down to wrap around his cock again. charles tenses at the moist warmth of your palm. “since we’re on the same page, if you want me to let you cum, all you have to do is convince me that you believe the same things i just said. i have all night to make you accept the truth, charlie. don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

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scary-grace · 1 month ago

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Enough to Go By (Chapter 25) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26

Chapter 25

Your phone is ringing from a number you don’t recognize, and you wouldn’t pick it up at all if it hadn’t already rung four times. Either this is one persistent telemarketer, or your mom’s changed her phone number again and you just haven’t noticed. You step out of the high command meeting with an apology and raise it to your ear. “Hello?”

“This number is listed as the emergency contact for a patient who was just admitted to Yokohama General,” the person on the other end of the line says, and your blood turns to ice. “Am I speaking with —“

She says your name, and you nod, your mind spinning. Yoshimi? Why would Yoshimi list you as her contact? She was in remission. What happened? Why — “Miss,” the nurse on the other end of the line says, “I need you to confirm your name.”

You confirm it. “Thank you,” the nurse says. “The patient’s name is Kiyohara Kazuo. His advance directive —“

“His what?”

“His advance directive requires that I share a message with you,” the nurse continues. “The message is this: SAVE YOURSELF, all caps.”

Save yourself? “That doesn’t make any sense,” you say. “What happened? How is he?”

“That’s protected health information. I — ah, it appears he’s signed a consent to release information,” the nurse says. You need to sit down. Your head is spinning worse than before. “Kazuo collapsed at his workplace with a grand mal seizure, believed to have been brought on by overuse of his quirk. Stress may have also been a factor — eyewitnesses state that he was in a contentious discussion with his supervisor at the time.”

Kazuo wouldn’t have used his quirk by accident. He knows where his limit is. Did he push himself past it on purpose? Why? Your eyes are burning beneath your veil. “Do you know what they were fighting about?”

“I wasn’t there,” the nurse says, like you’re stupid. You swallow hard around the lump in your throat. “If my boss could read my mind like his apparently can, I might have a breakdown, too.”

Kazuo’s boss can read minds. Kazuo overloaded his quirk on purpose. Kazuo set you up as his emergency contact and set an advance directive ordering that a specific message be given to you. You ask the nurse for his room number, ask about visiting hours, and all the while you try to figure out what he was thinking. There was something in Kazuo’s mind he didn’t want his boss to see. Flooding his mind with information would have obscured it. And then there’s the message to you, which he prepared ahead of time. Which he must have planned for. Kazuo’s always told you that you can’t save he and Tenko both, or you and he both, or something. But this time he was brutally direct. Save yourself. From what?

Foreboding crashes down on you. You launch to your feet, lose your balance, knock against the wall, and stumble back into the meeting in the middle of some soliloquy from Geten about convincing the average citizen to rise up and join the cause. Re-Destro spots you first. “Saintess?”

“Something’s going to happen,” you say. “My contact at the HPSC — he just —“

“False alarm,” Hawks says at once. Spinner and Skeptic sit bolt upright in their chairs. “I’ve got contacts there, too. None of them have said anything. If your guy’s some mid-level guy —“

“He’s not mid-level!”

“Sure, sure. I’m just saying, I talk to the top brass,” Hawks says. “They’re building up to something, yeah, but they aren’t anywhere close to being ready to move. And when they are, we’ll have plenty of warning.”

“This is the warning,” you say. You see Dabi ignoring you, Re-Destro dismissing you, Geten and Twice and even Compress leaning to Hawks’s side of the story. But that doesn’t matter. There’s only one person you need to convince. “Tomura —“

He never met Kazuo. You know that even the idea of Kazuo bugs him a little bit — it’s a reminder that there was someone before him, someone you loved, even if you never loved them like this. But he trusts you, and when he meets your eyes, you know you’ve won. “Your contacts could have found you out,” he says to Hawks, whose jaw drops. “Better safe than sorry. Activate everybody. We’re starting now.”

You still dislike Re-Destro on principle, but you’ll say this for him — when Tomura gives the order, he snaps to it, and Geten follows suit. Skeptic was already in motion before Tomura spoke, and Spinner catches you by the arm and pulls you out of the room, dragging you down the hall. You’ve gone over plans for the start of the war multiple times, and at no point do they involve Spinner kidnapping you. You speak up as soon as you’ve got your feet under you. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you out of here.”

“Why?” If there’s going to be a fight, you have to stay close to Tomura. You try to wrench your arm out of Spinner’s grip, but he’s holding on too tightly. “Let go. I have to —“

“Hawks just got made. He knows you’re important. Shigaraki’s not leaving you anywhere Hawks can reach.” Spinner’s expression is grim. “Twice is going to make a clone of you. It’ll do the same thing as you, but nothing bad will happen if he kills it.”

Except that Tomura will have to watch you die. “And what am I supposed to do while this is going on? Watch helplessly from the sidelines?”

“No,” Spinner says. “Do what you did during the Deika thing. It’ll work better if no one knows you’re doing it.”

He’s right. You’ve kept the existence of the deleter rounds fairly quiet — after you and Spinner agreed that Hawks was the spy, you started dropping hints about how the production was harder than expected, and the compound didn’t work as well as Overhaul’s. In actuality, you’ve got dozens of bullets, a specially modified gun to fire them from, and a lot of practice while Tomura was in stasis. Next to Tomura, you’re a target, and your ability to do anything other than reinforce Super-Regeneration is limited. At a small distance from him, hidden, you can do a lot.

You stop fighting Spinner, and he breathes a sigh of relief. “Go get your gear. Stay out of sight. And don’t worry about him. We’ve got his back.”

You believe that, now. You didn’t before, but now you see it — the League wants Tomura to survive, too. No matter how else they feel about the new world, they want him in it. You nod, and Spinner lets go of your arm, leaving you to run back to the room you and Tomura share. Everything you need is hidden under the bed, and as you put it on, it occurs to you suddenly that Hawks doesn’t know what you look like. How likely is it that any of the heroes know? Right now, the biggest identifying feature you have is your costume. If you take it off —

When you step back out of the room, joining the flood of PLF members headed to their battle stations, you’re dressed in civilian clothes, and no one pays any attention to you. Word is spreading that Hawks is a traitor, that heroes are headed here right now, and while you’d expect the members of the PLF to be frightened, they aren’t. Some of them are angry with Hawks, angry with themselves for being taken in. But even the ones who are angry seem excited, too. They believe they can win. And with the advance warning Kazuo’s given you, combined with Tomura’s near-omnipotence, you think they might be right.

You don’t have an assigned battle station — everyone assumed you’d be with Tomura — so you go looking for the intelligence center instead. Skeptic has cameras everywhere. He’ll be able to see exactly who’s come to fight, and you’ll be able to see exactly who you need to hit in order to turn the tide of the battle in the League’s favor. When you get there, Skeptic’s not alone — Dabi’s there, too, in the worst mood you’ve ever seen him in. They’re arguing about something you couldn’t care less about. You wedge yourself past them to look at the screens, and your stomach drops.

There are so many heroes. You’ve never seen that many in your life, all at once, all converging on the PLF headquarters. You know Kazuo gave you all the warning he could, but you’re suddenly convinced that it wasn’t enough. This looks like every hero in Japan, from the top ten to people you’ve never seen, from heroes who have been around forever to students. A slow twist of anger works its way through you as you notice kid after kid from Toga’s YouTube playlist running across the screens. What the hell are the heroes doing bringing kids to fight a war?

Ultimately you know who you want to hit, but you don’t have nearly enough bullets for every hero. And you’re not exactly a hero expert. You turn away from the screens and step right into the middle of Dabi’s argument with Skeptic. “I have quirk-canceling bullets that actually work. Who should I hit?”

“Endeavor,” Skeptic says at once.

“No,” Dabi snarls, and you flinch. “Not him, and not the little brat he bred to replace him. They’re mine.”

Skeptic argues, but you talk over him. “I don’t care who deals with them as long as someone takes them out,” you say. “Who else?”

“The only way Shigaraki loses this is if his quirks stop working,” Dabi says. “That fucking traitor will have told them what he has, so they’ll have brought Eraserhead. Get him and the heroes are screwed.”

“And how did the traitor know what the Grand Commander has?” Skeptic hisses. Dabi snarls. “You told him. This is your fault.”

“Twice was friendly with him!”

“Not half as friendly as you!”

Maybe this is what they were fighting about when you came in. It doesn’t matter. You need to find Eraserhead and take him out of the fight, and you won’t need to kill him to do it. All it will take is one shot. The building rumbles around you, but you don’t flinch — it’s just Gigantomachia, waking up, just like Tomura’s plan calls for him to do. You keep watching the screens, looking for Eraserhead, and you find him fast. He’s not hard to miss, not when he’s running alongside the numbers one, five, six, and ten heroes, plus three or four others.

That concentration of firepower can only be aimed at one person. They’re headed for Tomura, and with Eraserhead there to cancel Tomura’s quirks, his ability to fight back will be limited. The only way to stop it is to make sure to cancel his first. You slip out of the room while Dabi and Skeptic are still fighting and head for the front lines.

Most of the fighting is happening outside the building. Tomura’s game plan called for keeping the enemy forces from breaching the building, although you’re not sure why, given that Gigantomachia destroyed part of it already with his emergence. The ground is shaking with his steps, and there’s already one hero struggling to hold him back. As you watch through a shattered window, you see a shadow lift from the ground, wings extended. You’re not a hero expert, but you’re pretty sure that’s the number ten hero, Ryukyu. That’s one less person against Tomura. One less person shielding Eraserhead.

You can’t see Toga or Twice — or Compress, now that you think about it. If you had to put a bet on where Spinner is, you’d say he’s by Tomura. Which is where you should be. You can’t see the clone Twice supposedly made of you, but you’re sure it’s around somewhere. Not dead yet. If it were dead, you’d know. Not because you’d feel it, but because you know what Tomura would do.

You’re not on anybody’s list of important targets, which means you go largely unnoticed as you duck and weave through the fight. Without your veil, not even the members of the PLF can recognize you, and you keep your gun close to your side, out of sight. At one point, though, you make eye contact with a familiar face — bright-eyed, dressed in pink, a pink-shaded visor down over her face. Uraraka Ochako, hero name: Uravity. You duck out of her eyeline, your heart hammering. She won’t remember you. Even if she does recognize your face, she won’t know where she remembers you from, and she definitely won’t link you to the League of Villains. It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

Except it’s not her you should have been worrying about. There’s somebody else staring down at you — a kid, too young to be a pro hero, must be a student. “Hey,” he says, frowning. His voice sounds strangely familiar. “Are you okay? You look —“

He doesn’t see you as a combatant, or any kind of threat. You can’t count on that to last. You bring the gun up from your side, flip the safety off, and drill a quirk-canceling bullet into his shoulder.

The student staggers, frowning — but he’s clearly confused, particularly when the bullet falls away, spent, the needle exposed. “What was that?” he asks, as you get back to your feet – and finally, you realize who you’re looking at.

It’s your brother. One of the twins. Shinji, you think. A student at Ketsubutsu Academy, called up to fight a war. And now he’s quirkless. You should feel something. He’s your brother. But all you can think of is the number of times he practiced using his quirk on you. Shinji’s frown deepens. “What did you do to me?”

You need to get away from him before he figures it out — and before he can let anyone else know. He’s got an earpiece in one ear. You snatch it out of his ear and run, jamming it into yours instead. He’s pretty obviously dressed as a hero. If he runs into anyone from the PLF, they’ll fight him, and he’ll have to fight them without his quirk. Shinji’s not going to be able to follow you. And without his earpiece, he can’t call for help, either.

The channel the earpiece is tuned to is a mess. There are directives coming in from somewhere, but they’re drowned out almost entirely by the heroes trying to coordinate, trying to counterattack, trying to adjust to the fact that the PLF, who was supposed to be caught unawares, seems to have been ready for them. You recognize Endeavor’s voice from TV broadcasts, and you know he’s pursuing Tomura, so you try to listen for him specifically as you pick your way around the edges of the fight. You promised Dabi you wouldn’t go after him, but if it comes down to destroying his quirk or letting him hurt Tomura, you know what you’ll choose.

You’re not a strategist, but as you draw closer to the battle, you try to think like one. Eraserhead’s quirk is like yours — it affects somebody else rather than doing anything for him. It would make the most sense for him to stay out of sight, like you’re doing, in a hiding spot where he can see Tomura but Tomura can’t see him. It occurs to you how likely it is that Eraserhead is doing the exact same thing you’re doing, a split second before you make your way around a piece of rubble and find Eraserhead crouched behind it, peering up and over at the fight between Tomura and the heroes.

For a moment you’re frozen, but you shake it off fast. The range here isn’t as close as it was with the student you shot, but it’s still well within your abilities, and all you need to do is tag him. You feel an odd squeamishness about shooting someone who isn’t hurting you, who doesn’t even know you’re there. Then you think about it. Eraserhead wants to hurt Tomura. Eraserhead’s also a hypocrite — calling himself a hero, defending his psychopathic student while disallowing any possibility that villains could be anything but irredeemably evil. He deserves what you’re about to do, as much as anyone can be said to deserve it. You raise your gun and aim for his torso.

“Hey!” Something skids into your field of vision, blocking Eraserhead completely. It’s the student the League abducted, the one who acts like a villain, as if you’ve summoned him just by thinking about him. He has his arm pulled back, sparks flying around his hand. If you don’t do something soon, you’re going to take an explosion to the face. “I don’t know who the hell you are, extra, but if you think —“

You don’t need to think. You pull the trigger, and the bullet you’d marked out for Eraserhead hits the hero student instead.

His hand drops, like you’ve cut the muscles in his arm instead of canceled his quirk, and you see confusion on his face, just like you saw on the other student you hit. Unlike that student, he reacts fast, raising his other hand, his face screwing up in concentration as he tries to call up a quirk that’s long-gone. With no quirk, he’s not your problem — or so you think. “Sensei, cut it out! I wasn’t going to hurt her —“

That’s an enormous lie, and it’s cute that he thinks Eraserhead is the one doing this. You cycle another round into the chamber and lean out around him, just in time for Eraserhead to look towards his student. The two of you make eye contact. You see his face shift, see that he’s registered something’s off. He’s not watching Tomura any longer. His attention is on you, and his hair falls around his face, and you’re in the act of pulling the trigger when the student tackles you from one side.

Your shot goes wide, and you put an elbow into the student’s face as you fire another. You get lucky with this one. Eraserhead’s coming towards you, hand held out, and the bullet sinks into the palm of his hand.

He must know what it is. That’s the only explanation you can think of for why he reacts the way he does, and how fast he does it. Eraserhead draws a knife from his utility belt, raises it, and amputates his left hand with a single stroke.

Was he fast enough to keep his quirk? You’re not sure. Whether he was or not, he’s toppling sideways, blood pouring from the stump of his hand, and the student lets go of you, racing forward to catch him. “Sensei —“

Nobody’s holding onto you, so you run. As you vanish around a corner, you hear Eraserhead’s voice, tight with pain and anger. “Leave it, Bakugou. Stop her!”

The student’s going to be after you. That’s fine. Unlike him, you know how to fight without a quirk. Your clip is almost empty. You fire the last bullet into the crowd, hitting a hero at random, then load the next one. The thought of circling back around to try to put Eraserhead down for good crosses your mind. Even if you canceled his quirk on the first try, you can’t be too careful. At least, you don’t think you can. You hear the distinctive sound of warp sludge spewing and look to your right, just in time to spot one of the high-end Nomus unfurling its limbs and rising to its feet. It reaches for you, hand closing around your waist, and pulls you in close. “Master’s orders,” it rumble as you fight. “Keep her safe.”

“Let me go,” you order, and it loosens its grip on you — but it doesn’t let you go entirely. Your authority must be subordinate to Tomura’s, somehow. The Nomus will follow your orders only if they don’t contradict Tomura’s. You try desperately to think of a workaround. “He said to keep her safe? He meant Toga. Go get Toga.”

“No,” the Nomu says. “Her.”

It says your name, and you curse yourself. Of course Tomura would have gotten specific. Of course he would had made sure. After what happened in Deika city, you should have guessed that he’d have set up multiple backup plans to keep you away. The Nomu repeats the order again, like you didn’t hear it the first time, this time with your name firmly embedded in it. “Master’s orders.”

“Then come with me,” you say. “I have to go fight. Come with me and keep me safe.”

This time, the workaround has at least some effect. The Nomu loosens its grip completely, but draws close to you, shadowing you completely. It says your name a third time. “Keep safe. Master said —“

“So that’s your real name,” a voice says in your ear, and terror rips down your spine. “I liked Saintess better.”

The Nomu lashes out, but Hawks is too fast. He yanks you away, splitting the Nomu’s head open with a massive, razor-sharp feather. You try to get the gun around to the right angle to shoot him, only for him to grab your wrist and twist it hard enough to shatter it. You yelp in pain, and worse, you drop the gun. Hawks lets your wrist fall, twists the other behind your back, and clamps his free hand over your mouth. “I have to hand it to you and your friend at the HPSC. You two really screwed things up,” he says. You try to bite his fingers, and he curses. A moment later you feel the sharp press of a feather against your throat. “Skeptic got a message out before we jammed communications. PLF cells are activating across the country. How does it feel to be the cause of a civil war?”

“I didn’t cause it.” Your voice is muffled, but you get the words out. “You’re the ones who made it possible.”

“And here I was thinking you could be reasoned with.” Hawks laughs, low and dark. “Tell me something. Did you ever buy it? Me as a member of the PLF?”

You throw an elbow backwards and try to bite him again, and this time, the feather that bites into your throat bites deep enough to draw blood. “Never.”

“Then you should have said something about it yesterday,” Hawks says. “Now it’s too late.”

He lets go of the hand behind your back and wraps it around your waist instead, and suddenly your feet leave the ground. His wings buffet the air, hauling you both upwards. Your backpack falls from your shoulders, and you grab for it desperately, trying to salvage something, anything. Your hand closes around a single clip. Six bullets, no gun, and the Number Two hero holding what amounts to a sword to your throat. This is worse than Overhaul’s attempt to capture you, worse than facing down Re-Destro. Hawks has you, and you can’t get out. What is he going to do with you? Take you up to a height and drop you? Drag you back to the heroes and throw you into Tartarus? Make you disappear entirely, so that no one ever finds you?

No, you realize. Hawks is carrying you towards the battle, not away from it. He wants everyone to find you. Or maybe not everyone. Just one person.

He raises his voice, shouting into the wind. “Hey, Grand Commander! I’ve got something of yours!”

From above, the battlefield is a wasteland. The PLF’s headquarters are mostly in ruins, and the woods and gardens surrounding the compound are scorched black or still in flames. There are bodies on the ground, but from this height, you can’t tell who’s dead or just wounded, who’s a hero or a member of the PLF or a student who should never have been here to begin with. You know where Tomura is, though. You can see Re-Destro in his giant form, the light glinting off of Spinner’s blades, shreds of Dabi’s blue fire clashing with Endeavor’s red flames. You can see that the heroes are in trouble, that Tomura’s quirks are enough to hold them back almost single-handedly. And you can see that Tomura comes to a stop at the sound for Hawks’s voice. Everyone else keeps fighting, but Tomura freezes, and Hawks drops a few feet in altitude. “That’s right. Take a good look. I’ve got her.”

You hear Tomura’s response loud and clear. “You’ve got a clone.”

“I dealt with the clone already,” Hawks calls back. You see someone strike towards Tomura, only to be deflected by Re-Destro. Tomura doesn’t even look. “Twice’s copies are pretty good, but he always leaves one thing out.”

A smaller feather slices through the chain of your necklace, and it drops into Hawks’s hand. He tosses it down towards Tomura, and you see Tomura’s hand flash out to catch it. You can’t see his expression from here. “All right then,” Hawks says. “Now that we’ve established that I’ve got your girlfriend, here’s what’s going to happen.”

“No, this is what will happen.” Tomura kicks off from the ground and launches into the air — Air Walk, one of the quirks you and the doctor transplanted into him. Now he and Hawks are facing each other. “You’re going to give her back, and maybe if you do I’ll kill you myself instead of letting Dabi do it!”

“Come near me and I’ll cut her throat,” Hawks says, and Tomura stops. You see his expression contort in a way that’s unfamiliar, but it smooths out a split second later. “See, we could just beat you into submission — we’ve got numbers — but the problem is the big guy, and that army of yours that’s just started acting up. Not to mention all those Nomus. Killing you isn’t going to put them back in the bottle, so I’m going to need you to tell them to stand down.”

Hawks is smart. Too smart. The part of you that’s not writhing in terror realizes that Hawks has solved a problem that the rest of the heroes haven’t even thought of. If Tomura dies, there’s no one to give Gigantomachia the order to stand down. There’s no one to put the brakes on the PLF, a PLF that will be enraged by the heroes’ attack. If the heroes want this to stop, they need Tomura to stop it himself, and Hawks has pinpointed the one thing that’s always swayed Tomura, ever since this started — threats to people he cares about. He got into it with Overhaul because Magne was killed and brought back, sought out the fight with the Meta Liberation Army to rescue Giran. All that is true. You still don’t think there’s anything that will make Shigaraki Tomura stand down when the stakes are this high.

But he’s never been just Shigaraki Tomura. And ever since you both were children, you’ve never seen Tenko accept losing you even once.

You have to get out of here. You have to get free of Hawks before Tenko’s love for you ruins everything. You thrash, and both Hawks and Tenko snap at you to hold still. Your mind spins uselessly. Hitting Hawks hasn’t worked. You can’t bite him without moving your head, without pressing the feather against your throat. You don’t have a weapon on you. The only thing you have is the clip of quirk-canceling bullets in your hand.

Your right wrist is broken, but your fingers are okay. You switch the clip from your left hand to your right, trying to lock your fingers in place around it, and begin prying it open with your left hand. Hawks is still talking. “If you don’t order them to stand down, then I’ll kill her. It’s pretty straightforward. Do as I say or your girlfriend dies.”

“You’re going to kill an innocent person so you can get an easy win?” Tenko’s voice sounds as strange as the expression that contorts his features a second time. “What kind of hero are you?”

“One life for the whole country? I’m the kind of hero who makes hard choices,” Hawks retorts. “Your girlfriend might be innocent by your standards, but she’s a criminal just like you. I don’t want to do it, but I’d be doing everyone a favor.”

Tenko’s expression contorts again, but you recognize part of it this time — horror. You haven’t seen him look that way since you were children. His hands come up, clamping down on either side of his face, fingernails biting deep. “No —“

“Then this will be a really easy choice. Order them to stand down,” Hawks says. You pry open the clip and the bullets fall into your hand — and then out of it. Out of six in the clip, you’re only able to save one. “I’m going to give you fifteen seconds to comply. Fifteen — fourteen —“

He keeps counting down, and below you, you see a flaming figure break away from the fight. Endeavor. He’ll be here sooner than Hawks’s countdown will end, and Tenko will be trapped. You can’t let that happen to him. You can’t let his dream fall apart because of you. You flick the protective cap on the bullet hard, trying to shatter it and expose the needle, and feel it break away beneath your nail. You break the action down into the simplest possible steps, the same as you did when you were learning stitches or shooting a gun.

Shift your grip. Lean back, away from the feather. Keep looking at Tenko. Don’t look away. Bring your hand to your side. Think about where you’ll hit. Take a deep breath — your last one ever, if this goes wrong — and shout to Tenko, playing the role of his sidekick one more time. “Behind you! Look out!”

Tenko looks. Hawks curses at you, shakes you, and you bring your left hand up, stabbing the bullet into the back of his hand.

Hawks jerks back, but it’s too late. The feather at your throat goes limp and falls away, and a moment later, Hawks’s wings cease to beat. The two of you remain aloft for another second before gravity catches up to you, and then you fall. You’re falling together at first. Then Hawks shoves you away from him, hard. He wants to save himself. Fine. You know it’s too late for both of you already.

Hawk’s shove flipped you from falling facedown to looking up. You have a decent view of Tenko up above you, locked in combat with Endeavor and whichever other heroes can fight in the air. He must be taking damage — you can feel your vision blurring, your heart racing, as your quirk siphons your strength and sends it to him. Maybe that will be what kills you. Maybe you’ll die before you hit the ground.

That’s okay with you. You decided it could end like this, a few months back or forever ago. The thought settles over you as your vision goes black for the last time. You’re a sidekick. No good sidekick would let her hero lose.

<- Chapter 24 Chapter 26 ->

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holmesianlove · 4 months ago

Text

Chapter 23 - Ice Cream

John was grateful to return home to an empty flat. He had spent a long day at the clinic - a genuinely unfair return to reality. Two and half days away followed by a couple of very strange, quiet days at the flat with Sherlock and he was almost eager to get back to work. But once there, he was definitely regretting it. He felt like a fish out of water now. The clinic felt like an irritation. God, he hated the clinic work. And he hated himself for hating the clinic work. It was supposed to be noble, honest work. John felt like a bad person when he disliked his clinic work so much. But he'd discovered a different world with Sherlock Holmes. He was tempted to open a fake email account and make up a case just to email Sherlock and give them and excuse to escape again. He longed for the buzz he had while they had been on the trip, the thrill of the chase, the excitement in Sherlock’s every word, in every expression on that perfect face of his, when he was being inspired like that. But Sherlock had seemed a little quiet, introspective, unsure since their return. Possibly, he was also sulking about no case work. But it all left John feeling flat. Out of place.

Maybe the suit had been a step too far? Maybe Sherlock’s behaviour wasn’t at all an appreciation, but an aversion? He had seemed more receptive to John over the last week, but maybe John had started to get the wrong idea entirely. Was this Sherlock pulling back because he had seen John's feelings and didn't want to give him the wrong idea? Whatever was going on, since returning home, it was like a really bad sugar crash. All that chocolate had clearly given him some kind of delusional high.

He was craving sugar after his shift too. He had gone to the local shops to pick up something easy to heat up for dinner. There was no way he would be cooking tonight, and Sherlock never wanted to cook. But when he got to the shop, John had been completely uninspired. He knew there were eggs at home, he could always make some later, but what he actually wanted, what he decided upon finally, was a large tub of creamy chocolate ice cream. He had that sugar craving to satisfy, after all. Despite the cold weather, he was feeling bereft. Of what, he didn’t know. And the only thing that made him feel better when he felt like that, was ice cream.

“Ice cream for dinner? John Watson you are really reaching new levels of pathetic,” he sighed to himself as he stood in the aisle second guessing his decision. The sugar craving won out of course.

He couldn’t very well come home and admit how he was feeling to Sherlock, though, so it was a huge relief that the flat was empty and he was alone. He would put on some crap telly, his comfortable pyjamas, and sit with his tub of ice cream and a spoon, and just eat the entire tub, guilt-free, disposing of the evidence afterwards. Possibly even make some toast later so it looked like he’d eaten real food. After all the nagging he constantly gave Sherlock, his flatmate would probably be horrified to see John had devoured a whole tub of ice cream as his dinner. Still, it wasn’t going to stop him. Maybe an entire litre of ice cream would fill the hole in his chest that seemed to be there now, with no hope of a remedy.

John was rendered speechless, not long after settling in, when Sherlock burst through the door, part way through his 'dinner'. The man stood stationary in the doorway for a moment, as if he was taking the temperature of the flat, of John, before speaking. It was odd. John scoffed to himself and finished sucking the ice cream from his spoon. Sherlock wrestled his way out of his coat and dumped it across the arm of his chair, toed off his shoes on the spot and threw his phone and keys down on the seat of the chair without a word. He unravelled his scarf and played with the fabric for a moment before he finally padded over and collapsed onto the sofa beside John.

Without words, or eye contact, he simply stared at the television, trying to register what it was that John had chosen to watch and the plot of the episode. He couldn’t for the life of him figure that out. So he finally turned his head to look at John, to see how he was feeling about this viewing situation and then he saw the ice cream. John tried very hard not to blush under the scrutiny. He could feel Sherlock looking him up and down. He always imagined Sherlock like the terminator when he did that. As if, inside Sherlock’s head, a little computer was spitting out information in his field of vision. John Watson. Flatmate. Idiot. Doctor of something or other. Military injury. Cooks that thing with peas. Hates shopping. Depressed about being at Baker Street with no cases. Has chosen chocolate ice cream for dinner.

Sherlock shuffled closer, turning to face John, and crossing his legs. “What have we got here, then?” he asked playfully.

John’s spine straightened, his pride ruffled, and he finished his spoonful before shovelling it down into the remaining ice cream. “Dinner,” he finally admitted, without turning his head to acknowledge how close Sherlock was sitting to him.

“Right,” Sherlock said. Without hesitation, he reached out and grabbed the spoon and scooped some up for himself.

John’s head snapped around and he opened his mouth to argue but Sherlock simply polished it off, before pushing the spoon back into the tub again. “Mmmm, you got the good stuff. Must have been a really horrid day,” he said simply, without further judgement.

“Mmmm,” John agreed with a hum. He paused, still embarrassed for a moment and then his taste buds screamed at him to get another spoon, so he did. The same spoon Sherlock had just put in his mouth, and slid ice cream from. With his tongue. John felt himself flush slightly at the very thought, but the idea of getting up to get another spoon was far too much effort and so he grabbed it and partook in another spoonful. “Been out?” he asked casually. All the while, focussed on the fact that this spoon had been Sherlock’s a moment before and it felt sinful all of a sudden.

“Had to fill Mycroft in about the case. He was in fine form.”

“You probably need this more than me, then,” John suggested. This time, he simply handed the spoon directly to Sherlock, finally making eye contact. Sherlock smiled and grabbed the spoon from him.

“You may be right.”

Sherlock adjusted his position, uncrossing his legs and shuffling his hips closer, until they touched John’s. This time he lifted his knees up and put his feet on the sofa, so he was folded up, leaning his weight slightly against John as he grabbed the next spoonful. John wished he could fold himself up like that. Sherlock certainly seemed comfortable.

“What are we watching?” Sherlock asked, as he finished his spoon of ice cream and passed it back to John.

“Love Island. You’ll hate it,” John said simply as he ate and passed the spoon back, a new routine established.

There was something incredibly sensual about licking off the spoon and sharing it with his friend in that way. It created a whole new closeness. And the way Sherlock was sitting right beside him, watching this television show, which John knew perfectly well, Sherlock would never agree to watch normally. It was quite… nice. The two of them, together, sharing in a moment like this. Sharing a spoon, though? That wasn’t normal. Was it? Where had that come from? John couldn’t help turning his head with fascination, when Sherlock took his turn, watching the way he fed the spoon into this mouth, the way he sucked the ice cream from it and then licked his lips in a little dance. He couldn’t take his eyes of it. But he flicked his eyes back to the television before Sherlock could catch him.

“Mmm, this is one of my favourite brands,” Sherlock said quietly to himself.

“Well, it was a rough day. It required top quality chocolate,” John said, without looking at his friend.

“Not as good as Belgian chocolate, though,” Sherlock said.

“Well, no. You have a lot to answer for,” John teased. “I think I may have an unhealthy addiction. Now I’m going to have to travel there again, you realise. That makes it expensive bloody chocolate.”

“They do sell some of it here, you know,” Sherlock said, chuckling happily. “Do these people really think they’ll find a relationship like this? In their swimwear?” he added.

John burst out laughing, and grabbed at the spoon again. “I think they’re mostly in it for the fame, but I like to think that occasionally there’s someone with good intentions.”

“Ah, Dr Watson, always an optimist at heart,” Sherlock teased with a little nudge, taking the spoon from John. “I didn’t take you for such a romantic.”

John turned to look at him. “What do you mean?”

Sherlock paused, realising he might have said the wrong thing. “No, I just mean…” He paused, spoon caught in mid-air as he thought hard. “Well, come on John. You have to admit you’ve been…” Sherlock scoffed, and looked at John expecting he would understand. “… a little lost in love.”

John grabbed the spoon off him, suddenly offended. He sat up straighter, breaking their nice, warm contact. “Says the perpetually single man who thinks people in love are idiots?” John scoffed, digging in for a particularly big scoop of ice cream.

“Oh come on John, don’t be like that,” Sherlock whined.

“No, that’s just great, Sherlock. I share my depression ice cream with you and you give me shit about my dating life,” John said angrily, standing up.

“John.”

“Do you really think that’s me? The idiot who dates all the women unsuccessfully? Is that what you think?” John asked, turning on Sherlock.

Sherlock was left looking a little shocked. And John felt guilty for ruining the moment. They had been having such a nice time, he thought. They often ribbed each other, particularly about John’s ridiculous dates. But today, he was feeling so very sensitive about the thoughts in his head, the things he felt for Sherlock right now, that all those women had been a distant memory. His womanising ways long forgotten in recent months. It was not something he wanted to have brought up in his face like that. By Sherlock of all people. He stood there, shaking his head, regretting so many things.

“John, come on," Sherlock said gently. "Sit back down. I didn’t mean anything by it. I was just…”

Sherlock looked really upset by John’s reaction, and patted at the cushion, to entice him back. And for once, John decided to listen. Not to run away. He stood, watching Sherlock for a moment and finally sat back down with a sigh. He flopped back on the couch and Sherlock settled close to him again. They both sat there in silence and then Sherlock, boldly, grabbed the spoon to get another mouthful.

“Sorry,” Sherlock said under his breath.

“I don’t…” John sighed. “I know there’s something quite ridiculous about me and all those dates... that I’m unsettled in the world. I know to you, it might seem… farcical…”

Sherlock shook his head. “No. No, John. Not at all. You don’t have to…”

John grabbed the spoon back from him. “I lost my way. I know that,” he said angrily. “I haven’t always been quite so…” He didn’t finish the thought. He just ate some ice cream and settled back properly, watching the television again in silence for a while. “God, if I end up like these people, do put me out of my misery, though,” John finally said a little more light hearted, trying to change his mood.

Sherlock laughed. He hugged his hands around his legs, and after a moment, he rested his head on John’s shoulder, in a gesture of apology, letting out a little, satisfied sigh. “Promise,” he said.

John smiled to himself as he finished his ice cream with Sherlock Holmes resting against him peacefully.

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